


Between Stars

by laulan



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-15
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laulan/pseuds/laulan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Best friends Jared and Jensen have been working as a smuggling team for years now on their little spaceship Rosie, slipping under the radar of the law and lawless alike. It's a good life--well, as good as smuggling gets, anyway. Then Jensen's arranged fiance Danneel shows up and joins the crew, turning things upside down, and Jared's forced to reevaluate how he feels about Jensen. After that, it gets complicated and dangerous: bounty hunters, a rebellion, kidnapping, and an impossible rescue attempt. Will Jared, Jensen, and Danneel make it out of this mess intact? Takes inspiration from Star Wars, Firefly, and Star Trek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Stars

**Author's Note:**

> For the [SPN J2 Big Bang](http://spn_j2_bigbang.livejournal.com) challenge on livejournal, with [amazing amazing art](http://kaiserkuchen.livejournal.com/257802.html) by [Kaiserkuchen](http://kaiserkuchen.livejournal.com/profile)!

_The only way to truly know someone is to walk with them between stars._

 _ **\- New Texan Saying**_

 

"Name," said the woman in the uniform, bored glance barely flickering over Jared's face.

"Carter, ma'am," said Jared, letting his voice tremble a little. He shoved his shoulders straighter and cleared his throat. "Jax Carter from Sector Three, Kinney Farming Community, Designation Z359814IY--"

"That's enough, kid," the woman snapped, tapping something on his board and scowling. "Stars almighty, I don't need your life story. Report to the maintenance room--that's the fifth door on the left--for your uniform, and get to work. And keep your mouth shut, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Jared said, ducking his head. "Sorry ma'am."

The woman shook her head, lips pursed, and moved on down the line. “Next--and make it quick, the rest of you.”

No one watched as Jared shuffled out of the room, huge shoulders pulled up around his ears. Outside, the labyrinth of the port stretched around him. Base staff and civilians surged in every direction, different languages popping off the steel walls till you couldn’t catch a single word you knew.

Jared waded through the crowds, counting doors under his breath. People paid him little mind--there was nothing special about yet another green recruit out of uniform, marked by the strip of ID-dye on his throat. There were hundreds of those every week coming through a port like this, from every sector in the planetary system. Jared found the fifth door down with little trouble, and was quickly kitted out in a uniform--“Geeze, greenie, what’d they _feed_ you? You’re huge!”-- and told to move to Bay C for his first shift.

Jared hid a smirk as he ducked back into the hallway. This was where things got interesting.

He veered around a corner toward the cafeteria and ducked into the bathroom there. Everything was exactly where the blueprints had said it would be. He bit his lip to cover the grin of triumph that wanted to bubble up.

There was a line in the bathroom, so he waited five minutes for a stall, then stayed inside it for ten more. By the time he came out, none of the same people who'd seen him go in were hanging around anymore. Which meant no one saw him walk out as a new person: confident, straight-backed, walking quickly like he had somewhere to be. Jax Carter’s fake ID-dye had been easily wiped off, and his uniform had been catapulted up the ranks with a few cloth patches at the neck and a new line of dye on Jared’s hand marking him as ship docking crew.

He'd leeched some battery from the electronic toilet paper dispenser in his stall for his commpad; he kept his eyes glued to it as he walked down the hall, frowning and mouthing a word to himself every now and then so he looked busy. No one, he knew, would recognize him as the bumbling kid from earlier. Jared had a name ready for this alias, too, but he doubted he’d have to use it--there was no need to question a guy who looked like he knew where he was going.

He strode down the hallways until he found Cargo Hold 34, keeping to the busy thoroughfares to make himself harder to follow. The guy standing guard at the door there was younger than Jared, dye by his ear marking him just barely out of greenie training. He had dark smudges under his eyes and was leaning a little against the wall, his shoulders drooping. He'd been on duty a while, then. This was going to be too simple.

"'Scuse me," Jared called out. He locked eyes with the kid, twitching his lips in a pained smile that said he didn’t have time for this. "I'm here to correct a shipment direction. Customer wants the shipment spread over two ships now--something about pirates in the area."

The kid blinked up at him and scrambled to open a new window on his commpad. "I don't see any new notes," he said, biting his lip. Jared could sense the hesitation in his words, though--easy, easy, easy. He pressed a button on his own commpad surreptitiously.

"These goddamn old systems," he muttered, pursing his lips and letting his shoulders go tighter with impatience. "I told Davids to fix--look, I’m just following orders from up top. I got no time for this bureaucratic bullshit, gotta get across base for a 2300. You wanna go get me your commanding officer to solve this problem?" he demanded, putting his hands on his hips and glaring.

The guy’s eyebrows jerked up nervously, and he shifted, clearing his throat. "No, no, uh, sorry. I’m sure it’s like you said, problem with the, uh, the system--can I see your thumb ID, please?"

Rolling his eyes, Jared flashed his thumbprint up at the sensor. The guy frowned at his screen and tapped it with his finger when there was no response. "Oh, I think there's a--uh--a glitch--" he said. Jared let his expression go ugly and impatient, and the guy cringed. "Um, sorry sir, ID _number_?"

Jared sighed and parroted off the long string of numbers he had memorized that morning. He kept his glee hidden when the guy flicked through the protocol to let Jared in, bobbing his head in an awkward and apologetic bow. Jared nodded tersely in reply and shouldered past him.

An army of cargo boxes and a huge flock of mismatched ships met his eyes as the dock door slid from its bearings and revealed the giant room beyond. The scene was a ship historian’s dream; in a stopover port as old as this one, on the edge of two sectors to boot, you got traders from all over the place with ships from anywhere from brand new to decades old. Some were gleaming with polish, others barely spaceworthy, their hulls grimy and battered and their wings paper-thin. Jared tried to keep down his geeky delight when he spotted a pair of Longan freighters, their solar sails almost brushing the rafters, and a tiny Sunlander razornose, its sharp fins retracted for landing.

He loved ports like this because you got to see ships you didn’t get to see anywhere else. It made him itch to look at their engines and insides, and set a faint, sweet longing ringing through him for the shipyard he’d worked in when he was just out of school. There was a certain bright joy to having the bare bones of a thing laid out under you... still, it paled in comparison to the things he got to do now, he thought.

Jared knew the ship he was looking for wouldn't be here yet. He walked down the huge main aisle, allowing himself a smile when he spotted the cargo hold box he wanted: alpha gnu 294852, about forty feet away. He walked past it until it was out of sight, then stopped in at an electronic info console. Cargo hold docks like this one were so massive that people needed maps to find their shipments. Convenient--both for legit customers and for Jared. He palmed a tiny chip off his commpad and leaned over the console, sticking the chip to the side in a move disguised as a stretch. He smothered a grin as the screen flicked once. With a few simple keystrokes, he had what he wanted in the system. He tried not to let himself bounce with anticipation as he walked back to the hold box to wait.

To pass the time and keep up his disguise as an impatient ship docker, he stayed glued to his commpad, paging through the news with a faint, commanding scowl arranged on his face. No good news, as usual--a gas explosion in a Qechan city over in Sector 5, more government cuts to fuel subsidies in Sector 3, and drought spreading over Titan in his own home Sector, Sector 2. Grimacing, Jared flipped over to the crossword. At least you could _win_ at that.

As he was puzzling over the answer to 24 Across-- _star-crossed lovers of Old Earth’s China, 3 wds.?_ – he caught sight of what he was waiting for out of the corner of his eye. A boxy little ship was ruddering through the air from the cargo dock entrance, taking her sweet time. She looked like any other standard UniMotors model from the last ten years, more bulk and hold-space than graceful lines or pretty flourishes, but Jared felt excitement flash through him at the sight of her anyway. She looked _perfect_ to him. _Good girl,_ he thought. He straightened up as the ship came to a stop by the hold box, touching down. After a long moment, the docking bay door opened and her ramp lowered.

"Evening," said the guy who hopped out. He was tallish, a couple inches shorter than Jared, with green eyes and short brown hair mostly hidden under a cap. Jared pretended like he'd never seen him before.

"Evening," he grunted, keeping with his crotchety guise. “You the second ship for the Viridian Co. shipment?”

"That’s me,” said the man, mouth stretching into a polite smile. “Got my verification right here if you need to see it,” he added, patting the commpad under his arm. Jared held out his hand wordlessly and pretended to scrutinize it, eyebrows drawn down low with concentration.

“Looks fine,” he said, roughening his voice to sound grudging and passing the thing back. His own commpad beeped once with the alarm he’d set, and he scratched his ear in the _thirty seconds_ signal. “You got a place to strap this box down, sir?”

“I do--and I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you could help me secure the straps?” The man scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “My second ran off last time we were planetside, and I haven’t had a chance to replace him yet... “ His eyebrows were raised in a hopeful expression, and his hands clasped in the Sector 2 gesture of respect.

Jared made a show of narrowing his eyes and sighing for anyone who might be watching, then nodded and went to punch some controls on the cargo box. It rose into the air and dragged itself slowly into the docking bay of the small ship.

“It’s just this way,” the man said, slipping inside the ship. Jared grinned as one of the info consoles started smoking and beeping behind him on cue. People shouted and came over to look at it, and the cameras above swiveled in alarm--leaving no one paying attention to the two of them. _Jared 1, base security negative a million_ , he thought to himself.

He jogged up the ship’s ramp and into the cargo hold. While the docking bay door slid slowly up and the shouting outside started to taper off, he finished strapping down the huge cargo container, turning on the magnetized locks. By the time he was finished, he knew the smoking console outside would be back to normal, to the puzzlement of the ship docking crew.

When the docking bay had completely sealed them in, he sagged in relief and triumph, whooping out loud. He smacked the comm link on the wall. "Game, set, _match_!” he crowed. “We taking off right now, or should I come upstairs?"

A chuckle filtered through the comm link. “Don’t get cocky, asshole. We still have to get out. Just wait there a sec--I see someone else taking off, so I think we’re okay to space. Hold on to something, you know the drill."

Jared dutifully grabbed one of the bars installed in the walls, and a moment later, the whole ship lurched upward and forward. Jared held his breath at each of the airlock checks, but they made it through without incident with the same stolen codes that had gotten them in. No one at the base knew there was any reason to be suspicious yet, after all. Jared pumped his fist as they went through the final lock, and the starry vastness of space spread out before them. They’d _made_ it.

"Okay," the comm link crackled, "now you can run up before I hit the drive. But hurry up."

Grinning, Jared took the stairs two by two, coming up into the kitchen. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his blood, a giddy rush. He whisked into the cockpit, plopping into the copilot's seat and strapping on his seat belt as an afterthought.

"Miss me, honey?" he crooned, reaching over to ruffle Jensen's hair. He was rewarded with an eye roll and a half-hidden grin, Jensen's teeth flashing white in the bright console lights.

"Oh yeah, I really missed that smell," Jensen said, flipping a switch on the control board. "What'd you do, run a marathon while you were down there? Roll around in a pile of convenient wet dogs?"

"Aww, Jensen. Admit it--my pheromones are making you go crazy with lust and you can't bear to be in the same room with me," Jared said, adding a tragic sigh for extra effect. "It's all right. I understand. You just can't control yourself."

“Can’t keep myself from throwing up, maybe. Now will you shut up for a minute? I’m trying to make us disappear,” Jensen groused. He keyed in a couple commands on the mainscreen, and the ship hummed under his hands.

Jared ignored him and leaned over to palm Jensen’s face, stroking so his thumb rested on his cheekbone. "Don't speak, fair maiden," he whispered soulfully; "not a word need pass between us--"

"I _will_ bite your hand, don't think I won't," Jensen said, punching the ship into warp drive. Jared laughed and gave in, pinching Jensen's cheek instead before leaning back to get a good look at the main viewscreen. They watched for a moment as the port-base shrank against the backdrop of stars, a giant mass of twisted silver turning to just another glimmer in the sky.

"Did pretty good today, huh?" Jared teased, lurching a little as the ship jerked fully into warp. "Cloaking device worked _awesomely_ for her first real run, if I do say so myself. No better in the system, I bet you."

"Your modesty is sickening," Jensen told him, shaking his head. Jared caught the indulgent smile curling the corners of his mouth, though. "Yeah, it worked all right, blah blah, everyone worship the great and magical Jared, we owe you our lives, etc. etc. Now get out of here and take that damn shower, before you draw a pack of bloodhounds onto us. And ditch the creepy uniform."

"Cruelty, thy name is Jensen!" Jared lamented, pretending to swoon with sorrow. "Banished to the depths of the dark ship!"

" _So_ cruel."

"So cruel, man. The cruelest of them all." Jared unbuckled his straps and headed out, pretending to hang his head. He heard a "Hey, Jared!" not a second later.

"Yeah?" Jared stuck his head back around the cockpit door.

Jensen gave him a real grin over his shoulder. "The cloaking device _was_ awesome. She looked just like one of those ugly UniMotors junkheaps. It was perfect. Couldn't have done it without you, Chief Engineer."

Jared grinned back, warmth blooming in his chest. "Thanks, Jensen."

He popped out again, shaking his head fondly. That was Jensen for you--all dark, whip-sharp sarcasm until he dropped it to be a good guy and the best friend Jared had ever had. Jared knew most people who knew Jensen probably thought that the silent, serious front they saw for trading was all there was to him, but Jared knew better. Jensen was a great actor--you had to be, in their business.

Beneath his feet, the ship purred. "You did a good job today," he told her, looking up at her hall lights. "Cut through space like butter. Atta girl! I'll work on making the entrance smoother, okay? Don't like to think of you being jerked around so much." He patted her side and slipped into the bathroom.

The ship was Jensen's in deed and title, but she was at least half Jared's by now if you counted all the work he'd done on her. Her first name had been _Stellar Rose of New Texas III,_ and Jensen had picked her up out of a tow lot, totaled. Some rich kid's sweet sixteen present from the eighties, no doubt about it: her base was a Gammanite pleasure cruiser with an added gun turret, perfect for protecting Daddy's little treasure from kidnapping. When she first came into Chad's shop, she was a mess. Windows broken, paint scraped off, frame twisted like a giant had crumpled her up and tossed her to the other end of the planetary system. So of course Jared got stuck with her.

He snorted as he stripped off the green pilot suit and stepped into the shower. He could still remember how much he'd wanted to tell Chad he wasn't taking that assignment, no way no how. Chad always gave the really shitty jobs to Jared, "because I know you can handle 'em, man." Jared was really supposed to be working on the fancier things, like reprogramming GNC and upgrading warp drives, but he needed to keep the job badly, so he mostly just did whatever work Chad tossed his way.

He and Chad had grown up together, and Chad had done him a huge favor when he came back from the University. No one else wanted a dropout from the town of Santa Marina working for them, especially not in their shiny new ships, because everyone knew people from that backwater weren't to be trusted. Jared's lip curled. He still hated people with that attitude. Some jerks thought if you weren't from a major city or Sector 1, you weren't fit to be dirt on someone's shoe. That was one of the things he loved about this job. You got to get the assholes where it really hurt them: their wallets. He smirked as he thought of the sweet haul lying in the cargo hold.

He'd been lucky to be eking out a living in the shipyard Chad had inherited from his father back then. Of course Jared hadn't wanted that when he set out, but hey, you took what you could get. When he'd been younger, he'd really thought things would be different. When he was little, he'd sit in his family's patch of backyard every night, watching flashes of shiplight streak through the sky and thinking, _Yeah, that's gonna be me some day,_ with that heavy kind of certainty you have as a kid.

He'd hung the thought off his heart like an anchor, comforting and true. Getting off-planet was something people only _talked_ about in Santa Marina, but he was going to do it, he really was. It didn't matter if it took him years to save up and get the ticket. He was going spaceside someday.

He'd memorized constellations and the specs of a thousand different kinds of ships, changing his mind every day about which ones he was going to fly and build. The thought had kept him going through lot of shit he still didn't like to think about. He'd spent his nights studying hard and his days going to school and working to save money, and somehow he'd managed to get into the University of Nueva Tierra.

Nueva Tierra was the planet New Texas was moon to, and the capitol planet of Sector 2. Jared had barely been able to believe his acceptance letter. The engineering program at UNT was the best in the Sector, hands down, and sometimes people from there got accepted to _Central Base_ in Sector 1 for grad school or work after. He'd grinned for days, carrying the bright silver knowledge that he had a future under his skin.

For a while, it had looked like maybe everything was going to work out. He'd done well in his classes and managed to scrape together enough money to pay tuition, working nights in the tiny Roshanian restaurant below his dormblock. He'd loved the city, Ciudad Verde. Everything was different. The buildings stretched up to kiss the stars, and there was always something going on--music making the walls shake a few blocks down, a light show in the nearby skypark, another shuttle launch.

Jared had loved those best. People were always _going_ somewhere. It wasn't like Santa Marina, where you could read the stuckness in people's eyes, the dull old hopes in the lines of their faces. No one felt they had a chance there, where Ciudad Verde was built of chances. Jared had staked his own life on that.

Then everything had all fallen apart with the tuition raises. His dreams were crushed by a stupid little notice in his commpad inbox.

Jared could still feel the shock of it resonating years later, a laser cut down his chest peeling him right apart. He'd stood looking at that notice for so long when he'd gotten it, breathing hard and willing the words to morph into something else, _anything_ else. He was already stretched to his bones trying to pay for school and food and have a little left over to send home. There was no way he could handle more. He'd gone to the registrar, gone to the dean, gone to the banks--gone to anyone he could, begging, pleading, frustration numbing his tongue when yet another person turned him away. There'd been no way out.

So he'd gone back to New Texas, and there he was, fixing the crappiest ships known to humankind, most of them illegal. Chad got him _every time_ with the patented Best Friend Guilt Trip. "Trust you more'n half these kids, Jaybird," he would say, tossing Jared the specs on a new project of horror. "I know you won't let me down." And then he would bring out that stupid puppy dog look that made Jared roll his eyes and throw greasy rags at him--the exaggerated pouty lip, the fluttering blond eyelashes. Even so, somehow he still ended up with the rust buckets every time. Him and his stupid loyal heart.

Which led to _The Stellar Rose of Texas III_ \--this ship that had definitely gasped its last three or four years ago, and was almost falling apart under Jared's fingertips. He'd been in his workshop, just starting to tally the damage, when a guy had come in at the back. Jared barely glanced at him. He was trying to figure out where to even start. Then the guy came up behind him, and Jared felt his hackles raise. They didn't often get people trying to scam them, but every now and then...

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning to smile his friendliest smile and show off his intimidating shoulders.

"Oh, she's my ship," the guy said, ducking his head. His smile when he met Jared's eyes was sheepish. "Sorry, I know it's kind of weird to come by here like this, but--I just had to look at her again. I got her just two days ago. She's the first ship I've owned all to myself." His eyes strayed back to the ship, and his smile widened into a delighted grin, like he still couldn't believe it.

A pilot, then, Jared thought, working on some kind of crew. He clearly got to go spaceside as much as he wanted, and had made enough to buy a ship. Jared didn't even want to think about how much money that was. Buying Santa Marina would be cheaper. He pushed down on an ache of envy that wanted to flare up. "Congratulations," he said instead.

"Thanks," the guy said, stepping closer. At this distance, Jared could see a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His eyes were lit up with excitement. "I can't wait to see what you do with her. Looking forward to giving her a new name, too--I hate names like that." He nodded his chin at the frilly cursive lettering dancing across the ship's side.

Jared snorted. "Why'd you pick her up, then?"

"Can't hold a name against a good ship, can you?"

"Hate to break it you, man, but this thing's a piece of shit right now," Jared said without thinking about it, flicking a cracked piece of glass off the ruined leather seats. He winced almost the minute he said it, opening his mouth again to apologize--fuck, this was a _paying customer_ \--but the guy was throwing his head back and laughing like he'd been surprised into it, loud and joyful. Jared felt a grin of his own sneak up onto his face.

"Them's fighting words," said the guy, eyes crinkled at the corners. "Do we have to go out back so I can pound an apology out of you?"

Jared laughed and held his hands up. "Nah. I take it back. Man, what was I thinking? She's clearly a diamond in the rough. Gonna race with the best of 'em someday, huh?"

"Damn straight she is. I'm Jensen, by the way." He held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jared, and I'll be polishing your diamond." Jensen laughed again, and they shook hands--a good, solid shake.

Jensen started showing up during the days. He said he was working a night job, and Jared didn't mind much if he sat around while Jared worked. Jensen always looked so happy to see his ship, his face bright and open like a little kid's when her frame came into view, and Jared just didn't have the heart to tell him to go away.

He wished he had feelings that simple right now. He felt stupid and slow for still being so mixed up about University months later, but there it was: everything was stained by the feeling that this wasn't where he was really supposed to be. His parents were happy to have him home, but he couldn't shake the conviction that he didn't fit there anymore, feet hanging off the metaphorical bed of his childhood and head brushing the ceilings. He was bored and he was tired. He woke up, he went to work, he drank with Chad or he went home to sit in the dark and read serials--his life was dead end after dead end after dead end, and he itched to change it but didn't see a way how. He was stuck, and Jensen was at least a nice distraction from being a stupid, maudlin idiot, Jared thought.

They got to talking when the tools weren't too loud, just light little stuff, and Jared learned more about Jensen. Middle child, older brother and younger sister like Jared; born on New Texas and off it as soon as he was eighteen.

"How'd you swing that?" Jared asked, pushing out from under the ship to raise his eyebrows at Jensen.

Jensen cleared his throat and squinted out the window, face inscrutable. "Let's just say the job I was doing was less than legal and leave it at that," he suggested, tucking his hands in his pockets. His voice was dark and smooth as velvet, and Jared swallowed at the hints of danger and promise that glittered there. He knew less than legal--hell, Chad's whole shop was pretty much "less than legal"--but the way Jensen said it made Jared's blood race. It sounded like he'd _gone_ places. Jealousy and longing curled like smoke in him, but he didn't want to push, so he changed the subject.

They talked about all the planets they wanted to see while Jared had pulled _Stellar Rose_ inside out and built her back up again. A job like that took a solid two months just for the shell, and four for the custom programming of her system. Jensen spent the whole of it in Santa Marina, whiling his days away with Jared and working nights driving shuttles a couple towns over. They started hanging out outside of work, too--catching a gravball game, drinking with Chad and his buddies, hanging out in the only movie theater in town making fun of the Old Earth reels under their breath.

Without meaning to, Jared found himself spending more time with Jensen than just about anyone. It got to be that Jensen was the person he looked forward to seeing the most on any given day. Jensen was someone you could tell just about anything, and he would really _listen_ , too, those green eyes focused with a heady intensity on you as you spoke.

"I went to university," Jared found himself admitting a couple weeks before Jensen's ship was done. They were in the back of Sal's burger place, down to the dregs of a plate of fries. Jared pushed a burnt one through the ketchup pile, drawing a clumsy star. "Ship engineering. S'why I'm programming your ship myself."

Jensen whistled, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. "Fuck. You mean this whole time I've had a college grad fixing my ship? Man, what're you doing with Chad? You could have a big ole fancy lab all to yourself by now, prob'ly. Hard worker like you."

Jared snorted. "Maybe. If I'd graduated.”

"Yeah?" Jensen's face softened. "What happened?"

Jared shrugged and looked down at the table, scraping his star into nothing. "Oh, you know. They got rid of the scholarship. About a year now, when was passing out cuts like candy." He glanced at Jensen's face, and felt a little gratified at the anger he saw there in the twisted mouth and narrowed eyes. "They wanted me to sell my soul for loans, basically. And I just--it felt impossible. Not the good kind of impossible, where you're like, yeah, I wanna fight this, but the kind where it seems smarter to turn around instead of getting your face blown off."

He shrugged and looked down, adding a comet tail to his ketchup star. "They would've had to mortgage the house to even get me on the loanlist, my family. And they said they would, but I said--bullshit. Fuck that, you know?" If his voice shook a little, he didn't care. "No piece of paper is worth putting people you love through that. I wanted to get off-planet, see the stars, yeah--but not enough to sell my family for it."

There was a moment of silence, and Jared's guts squirmed with shame. Awful thoughts he’d been keeping at bay skittered through his head. He was a university dropout stuck in his hometown and going nowhere fast; what kind of friend was he for someone like Jensen, who'd probably been all the way across the system, who’d probably seen half the stars in the sky up close? Then Jensen leaned forward and tapped his fist against Jared's clenched hands gently. “Hey,” he said. Jared blew out a slow breath.

"Hey," Jensen repeated when Jared looked up, mouth tilted in a crooked smile. "I think that makes you one of the best men I know. So here's a toast--to people who know a piece of paper doesn't mean anything about how much you're worth." He stole one of Jared's fries and whacked it against Jared's before popping it into his mouth, quirking his eyebrows. "Cheers."

"You just did that to steal my fry," Jared grumbled, but Jensen's words slid deep under his skin like cool water, soothing old hurts and doubts. His heart felt like it was glowing in his chest.

"Doesn't mean it's not true," Jensen said, grinning impishly. His eyes, though, were dark and serious. Jared found out just how serious a couple of days later.

He'd finished Jensen's ship off with a growing sense of restlessness, frustration itching up in his throat and buzzing in his legs so that all he wanted to do was run. A finished ship meant Jensen would be heading out, and Jared didn't really want to think about what that would mean for his own life. He and Jensen had spent every day together for six months, and now that was all about to blow away like a tumbleweed. Chad was his best friend, and Jared loved him like a brother, but... Whenever thoughts like these wandered into Jared's mind, he'd frown and shake his head, and force himself to concentrate on the ship. He didn't really want to think about any of it, so he thought about acceleration and in-ship grav and comm systems instead.

The ship had completely transformed. She was sleek and strong now, no scars from her old collision marring her hull. She was built to last and fly fast: a compact little bolt of power that would zip and slice through the skies. Two tiny bedrooms, a kitchen, and a cockpit on the first level, and a cargo hold big enough to fit enough loot to make any smuggler happy on the bottom level. Jensen hadn't outright said he was a smuggler, of course, but Jared had figured it out. Anyone who wanted that much cargo space in a ship this size couldn't be a legit shipper.

Accordingly, Jared had gone all out and made her a full-on smuggling vessel. Every nook and cranny could be filled with contraband, and there were a bunch of ingenious hideaways he hadn't even told put in the blueprints. He'd painted the whole ship black to blend in with the vacuum of space--with a row of lights Jensen could flick on with his distress call if he ever needed to be found, of course--and put in a new motor for speed and a reinforced hull for protection. If there had been an opportunity to make something better, Jared had leaped on it. When there'd been nothing left to improve upon, he'd carefully painted her new name on her side in white: _Rosie_.

Jared thought she was probably the best work he'd ever done. The day he showed her final paint job to Jensen, he couldn't quite make his smile feel real.

"--and that's just about everything," he said, finishing up the cockpit tour. He waved dully at her main screen, hand flopping to his side. "She's spaceworthy. I had someone test out her maneuverability in a suit, and she's perfect, according to them." He bit his lip. "So... guess you'll be shipping out as soon as you pay Chad, huh?"

He tried not to sound like the little kid getting left out of the adventure, but his guts were tying themselves in knots and a thick lump of misery stuck in his throat, making his words sound wavery and thin. He cleared his throat and hoped Jensen hadn't noticed.

Jensen was still looking at Rosie's controls, stroking a reverent hand down a row of switches. "Jared, she's gorgeous," he said, awe palpable. "Man, I never thought she could look like this. I mean, _I_ knew she was special, but--" He brushed his thumb over the leather of the pilot's seat and shook his head, eyes wide. "This is perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jared said, biting his lip over a small smile he couldn't help.

" _Thank_ you," Jensen said again. He turned to Jared and clapped him on the shoulder, beaming hugely. "Man, I don’t know what to say, except... would this be a good time to ask you if you want to be part of the crew?"

Jared's breath caught in his chest. He blinked at Jensen. "Huh?" he managed.

Jensen’s grin widened further, crow’s feet blooming at the corners of his eyes. "I need someone a mechanic to keep up maintenance on her," he said. "I'm good with flying, trajectories, you know, that stuff, but I can't fix her if something goes badly wrong because of something idiotic I did. And I need a copilot, too." He raised his eyebrows hopefully. “I know you wanna see the stars, man--you’ve been telling me so yourself for months. So what do you think?”

Jared stared at him. His brain was still looping over the words, sure he was missing something. "You can't be for real," he said, but it came out like a question instead of the scoff he'd meant it to. “Jensen, people don’t just--do you even know how much tickets to Nueva Tierra are, let alone across the system? And you’re just offering me, what, free passage _anywhere_ , anytime?”

Jensen huffed out a laugh, and his smile uncurled into something more wry. "You do know what I do, right? That I'm a smuggler?" he asked frankly. "You’d be living on the other side of the law if you came with me, way more than you do here with bootleg ship parts and mods." He patted Jared's shoulder and stepped back a little. "It's not like I'd just be doing you a favor, so wipe that shocked look off your face. Hell, it’d probably make more sense for you to go back to the University someday and do it the legal way--and I know you could.” His eyes were bright with earnestness, and he smiled again, fond. “I just know I'd be kicking myself if I didn't ask you. Gotta go with my gut, and my gut is saying that Rosie and I want you on our ship."

"But I can't even fly well," Jared said, chewing on his lip. Something bright and hopeful was winding through his blood at the thought of just _taking off_ and leaving, burning right out of this stuck place with a trail of shipdust barely following and Jensen at his side. It was almost too wild a thought to bear. "I mean, cargo freighters, sure, but a little thing like this--"

Jensen made a face. "Big deal. I could teach you. It's easy. If you know enough to work here, you know the emergency basics, yeah? We can work on anything beyond that."

Jared shook his head in overwhelmed disbelief. This was happening too fast. "Dude," he croaked. "Don't you want the best and brightest serving on Rosie? Not just--" he swallowed. “Not just some kid who only finished school halfway and hasn’t ever been out of his Sector?”

Jensen snorted. "I trust you," he said, like it was a perfect reason, like it was no big deal. Like he had no idea how strong and brilliant and _good_ Jared felt under the sheen of those words. "Besides, best and brightest--Jared, you just built me the best ship this side of the solar system.” He patted Rosie’s side and leaned against her. “I'd say there's no one better."

Jared ducked his head and grinned against his will, warmth prickling all over his skin. "Jensen, okay, that's great, I mean, you're awesome, but--this is crazy," he said.

Jensen just tilted his head back and smiled up at Rosie's star-roof. "You have to be willing to take a few risks when you're in a business like mine," he said. “You saying no? I can give you a day before I gotta head out... “

“No, I--“ Jared hesitated and bit his lip. He ran a hand through his hair and whirled around in the cockpit, pacing to the door and back. "Just, give me a second to think, okay? Man. I was not expecting this.” Too many thoughts were whirling through his head; he pressed his palms to his eyes like he could press the words back.

“Your job before," he mumbled finally, "was it for the rebellion?"

His stomach flipped sickly at the thought. He had to know, though. He’d never asked Jensen before, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with the rebellion. Not after Jeff--no way. It was just too dangerous for normal people.

Jensen knew by now that Jared never wanted to talk about the rebellion, so his voice was soft when he spoke. “No. I was running shipments with Jeff Morgan. He only works with his own crew. He’s no one’s man.”

Jared’s eyes snapped open. “Jeff Morgan?” he demanded, wheeling around to stare at Jensen. “Jeff _Morgan_?”

Jensen coughed and shot him a guilty look. “Yeah. Up until about eight, nine months ago.”

Jared dropped back against Rosie’s side, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew about Jeff Morgan--everyone on the wrong side of the law did. Jeff Morgan was a man with a sweet smile, an absolute lack of survival sense, and a crew that could get you anything you needed. Seriously, anything. He could bring in supplies from all over the system to just anywhere. Normal stuff, rationed stuff, black market stuff that could fetch you years in stellar prison if you got caught carrying it. Weapons, forged citizdiscs, antimatter...

He looked at Jensen with new eyes. “Is there anything that’d get my family in serious trouble? More than usual, I mean?” he asked, crossing his arms and straightening up. He held Jensen’s gaze steadily. “Because I’m not gonna come if it could hurt them.”

He knew his parents wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to fly off with Jensen--hell, they needed money bad, and it wasn’t exactly like everyone in Santa Marina was squeaky clean. Jared’s dad played pool with a couple of guys who’d robbed a bank few years ago, and his mom’s vid club included a woman who’d ran an underground gambling ring. But that was small stuff on the large scale of things. No one from Sector 1 cared about little crimes like that on a moon in Sector 2, but they just might care about smuggling with a guy who’d run with Jeff Morgan.

“No,” Jensen told him, looking back without flinching. His face was open, honesty clear in his eyes, and Jared felt himself relax a little. “Nothing more dangerous than normal smuggling, anyway. Jeff never took the dangerous stuff with his crew. He did that all alone, and the government and the rebels know it. The only thing they have me on record for is petty crimes--and that’s spread out over two or three aliases.”

“You promise?” Jared found himself blurting out. His face went hot with embarrassment, but Jensen was kind enough not to laugh at him.

“I promise,” he said, hand on his heart. “We’ll just do ship parts and stuff like that, nothing real bad. I just wanna make a living and get to fly. So... are you saying yes?”

Jared cleared his throat. He tried to picture himself just leaving town in this spaceship, Jensen as his only company. Space was dangerous, and he'd only known Jensen a few months, after all. Was this really a risk he wanted to take? Fear and excitement made his stomach roil and his mind swirl. Then he imagined himself here for the next ten years--still working the kinks out of broken-down ships, still doing oil changes, still drinking with the same guys he’d known since he was little. Still stuck two kilometers from where he'd grown up, the same old faces shifting by him on his lunchtime walks and the same old conversations buzzing in his ears.

He raised his head, meeting Jensen's eyes. "You know what, fuck it. Take it," he drawled. A grin spread over his face as joy shivered through him. He felt light, suddenly, like he’d sloughed off a huge load of weight. "Though Chad's gonna kill me.”

Jensen smirked. "Not if we fly fast enough."

And that was that. Chad didn’t kill Jared--he was _worried_ , though, which was sweet. Jared promised to write him every week so Chad would know Jensen hadn’t murdered him in his sleep suddenly. He told his parents and his baby sister that he’d write, too, and though his parents were a little bemused, they let him go with good wishes. He’d grabbed a bag of stuff and met Jensen at the docks, eagerness making him trip up the gangplank. Then Jared was watching his brown and yellow hills disappear as they left his home planet behind in a dizzying rush, the stars swirling around them.

They'd been flying together ever since.

They did a little bit of everything, but Jared supposed if he'd had a real business card-- _yeah right_ , he thought, shaking his head as stepped out of the tiny ship bathroom and brought himself back to reality--it would have read _Jared T. Padalecki, professional smuggler and jack of all trades_. Mostly what they did was get jobs done. That meant smuggling almost all the time, but could also mean forging or impersonation or any number or illegal things. Each job was a different challenge.

True to Jensen’s word, though, no trouble but normal trouble had followed them. They kept mostly to harmless shipments that had some weird or difficult catch to them--ship parts that had to be run across the system three or four times to throw off suspicion, Kyranian snapberry liquor hidden in vidplayers to be delivered precisely at noon, a trousseau covered in contraband Wessex diamonds for the daughter of a nervous government official. The only bounties the two of them had on their heads were the bounties of normal smugglers--Jensen's slightly higher because he'd been smuggling for longer, which he teased Jared about endlessly. Jared checked every week to make sure his parents and Chad weren’t on any lists. So far so good, and they’d been out here for three years, now. He liked to think they were pretty safe. As long as he and Jensen were on Rosie, it felt like nothing could stop them.

Jared shook his head, grinning. _Don’t get cocky_ , he reminded himself--one of Jensen’s favorite sayings, supposedly passed down from Jeff Morgan. Jared doubted that. Jensen just liked to mess with him. He tossed the ridiculous uniform in his closet in case they needed it again, and changed into a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt. Stretching, he padded out to the kitchen in his socks to cobble together a questionable sandwich. A moment later, Jensen came in from the cockpit, and headed to their kitchen storage, yawning widely.

"We golden?" Jared asked.

"Golden," Jensen said, rifling through the shelves. "Halfway out to system's edge by now, and I went around Smithfield Corner just to shake 'em up."

" _Fan_ -see flyer," Jared said. He laughed and caught the protein bar Jensen lobbed at him. "Man, you're gonna have to do better than that."

"You know, one of these days I'm gonna drop your ass on some podunk asteroid and hightail it back to Sector 2 and Danneel," Jensen told him, nodding meaningfully at a photograph of a smiling redhead pinned above the kitchen sink. "I know _she_ wouldn't treat me this way."

"Pfft, nobody treats you better'n me," Jared said, tossing the protein bar back. "And if you went back to New Texas now you'd be pining for the stars before you could even kiss her. Face it, you're stuck with me forever, you lucky guy." He winked at Jensen.

"Gods and stars forbid," Jensen muttered. He pulled out a pot and a packet of noodles. "Maybe Danneel would come up here with me, you ever think of that?" He pointed the pot at Jared and raised his eyebrows accusingly.

"But who would reach the high shelves?" Jared asked, putting a finger to his chin mockingly.

"Oh, fuck you," Jensen said, snorting. He filled the pot with water. "We could get a footstool, couldn’t we, Danneel," he mused to the photograph. "Cost less'n feeding Jared does, too."

Jared just laughed again. "Keep dreaming, man," he said, settling back into his sandwich. “If you brought Danneel up here, she’d totally leave you for me. She wouldn’t be able to resist my manly charms.” He pouted his lips and flexed, which earned him rolled eyes and a piece of dried noodle thrown at him. Jared caught it in his mouth. “See? Danneel wants a man with skills, don’t you, Danneel?” he called.

Danneel was Jensen's dream girl and fiancé, who’d been matched with him by VeriMatch Systems ™--“Where your dreams come true.” Jensen had exactly one picture of her and had exchanged a letter a month or so with her for a year and a half, now. Okay, so they’d never actually met, but that didn’t make it less real, Jared thought. In a system as big as this one, proximity had never stopped anyone from falling in love. And maybe Danneel and Jensen weren’t in love yet, either, but that was because they were taking things slow.

Jensen wasn't ready to head back to New Texas--he and Jared both knew that. There was always that nebulous _someday when I’ll settle down_ , though. Jensen and Danneel had a loose promise for that day, which suited them both just fine as far as Jared could tell. They could get to know each other without rushing, so there were fewer surprises when they took that final step.

Jensen owed Danneel to his mom’s nagging. She mom had signed him up for VeriMatch the last time he went home to visit, claiming she wanted grandchildren this century, thank you very much. VeriMatch was perfect for that. It was an outdated program for matching people with their "ideal" genetic matches--strong human beings immune to different diseases than you, so your children would be most likely to survive any kind of disaster or epidemic. Jared thought it was kinda creepy, bordering eerily on eugenics with a happy face sticker pasted on it, but hey, some people bought into that stuff. Jensen sure didn’t; he’d done it to keep his mom quiet, and insisted that finding Danneel had been pure luck. Jared always liked to tease him that it was because she was the only one who wrote him back, but he secretly agreed.

Danneel was a Recent, meaning her family had come to the system on one of the last ships limping away from Old Earth and settled down within the last thirty years. Danneel must have been little, then, because Jared knew she was about Jensen's age. Some people looked down on Recents for being “backwards” or not understanding system customs, but that was clearly bullshit, because Danneel was really sharp. She lived on Cronus, another of Nueva Tierra's three moons, and worked in a factory putting magnetic strips on maglev toys. At night she wrote newspaper articles for a small town paper. And as far as Jared was concerned, she and Jensen were a perfect match.

They both liked to travel and they both wanted kids. They both held the same scathing opinion of the governor of New Texas, who Jared had never paid attention to. Even their frivolous interests matched up: they both loved thriller serials--though they had completely different taste in authors, which led to some vehement disagreements--and they both loved minquine races. (Jared would never, ever understand the appeal of minquine races.) Danneel even liked gravball.

It was sweet, watching the way Jensen would smile every time he got a new letter from her. Jared didn't read the things out of respect, but he knew they were practically novel-sized. They made sure to stop by the mailbox where they were dropped at least once a month, and Jared loved watching the way Jensen’s eyes lit up when he saw he had a message. He liked knowing there was someone out there keeping Jensen happy, just like Jared was.

Jared had only had one girlfriend like that, and it hadn't lasted through the University. He'd had to leave, and Sandy'd managed to stay. It took a week to get to Nueva Tierra on the cheapest tickets from New Texas, and two months of Jared's salary. He made the trip three times before they gave up, weary, lying fully clothed on her tiny dorm bed.

That had been a long time ago now, though he still missed her. They’d stayed friends, but steady communication wasn’t exactly easy when you were trying to hide from the government, and he’d lost track of her a few months ago. He hoped she was doing all right.

Maybe someday he’d find something more lasting. He could find girls to hook up with easily enough whenever he and Jensen took leave planetside, but he knew he wanted more than that, one day. Space distilled wants like that, and made loneliness strong enough to choke on if you weren’t careful. Thoughts like those always stopped when he remembered it would mean going planetside for good, though. Leave space? Leave Jensen and all this? No way. He wasn't ready to put this life behind him. He liked it up here, and he thought he'd settle when he had to, and not before. He had a feeling Jensen was the same way, but it didn’t matter, because there was no rush anyway.

“Danneel wants a man who can cook,” Jensen said, interrupting Jared’s train of thought by plopping a bowl of noodles in front of him. “Which, face it, Jarhead, will never be you.”

“Thanks. And I could learn,” Jared said loftily. He took a sip of the soup and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Okay, I take it back. I could never do what you do. Dude, how does this come from those stupid little noodle packets?”

“Magic,” Jensen told him. “And the ability to not burn hot water or chop my fingers off.”

“That was one time!”

“You’d think for an engineer, you’d have a better handle on this stuff.”

Jared scrunched up his face. “My stuff is so different from water and cooking, it’s on the other end of the system from it! That’s not fair.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Jensen hummed. He grinned at Jared. “Shut up at eat your soup.”

Jared muttered something uncharitable, but the soup was really good, so he couldn’t stay mad for long. He noticed Jensen was reading something on his commpad, his brows furrowed intently. “Whatcha got there?” he asked, slurping up another mouthful.

“You’re gross,” Jensen said absently. He leaned closer to his commpad to peer at something, and Jared wondered if his visual adjustments were malfunctioning again. “You’re gonna laugh at me, but I swear, it's like someone's trying to send me a message through these ads.”

Jared did laugh, throwing back his head. “Dude, are you hearing yourself? You sound like one of your serials. Lemme see.” He reached over and swiped the commpad out of Jensen’s hands. _YOU’RE OUR 2332233323323333_ _rd_ _VISITOR! CLICK HERE TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!!!_ it screamed in flashing gold letters above a sea of fine print. Jared snorted and slid it back over the table. “Your millionaire winnings are talking to you, huh? You've been working on those coded customer messages too much. You're seeing things hidden everywhere.” He reached out and flicked Jensen on the forehead.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “You say that now, but just wait until I decode the message about shut the fuck up and a monster’s going to eat you?”

“If you actually find that in a coded message, I’ll give you twenty galdrets,” Jared said, grinning. He blinked in surprise as a yawn overtook him. “Guess the adrenaline’s wearing off,” he went on, stretching his hands high over his head. “What timezone are we in now, anyway? You gonna need me to take a shift in the cockpit?”

“Hell if I know and no, respectively,” Jensen said, giving in and pulling out his specs to slip over his eyes. "I'm gonna put her on auto for a couple hours, headed toward Echo Base, after I send Tien the message that we have his cargo." He peered up at Jared through the specs. “You might as well go to sleep if you’re tired.”

"I think I’ll do that," Jared said, standing up. “You gonna keep working on that mystery message?”

Jensen’s lips quirked. “Till I prove you wrong? Yeah.

Jared snickered. “Good luck with that,” he said. “See you on the flipside, Ackles."

He went to sleep the way he always did: watching the stars drift by in warp outside his porthole, the comforting blur of them smoothing his thoughts into dreams.

\---

Morning found Jared in the engine room with his latest project. He'd woken up at 0630 with a flash of inspiration and hadn't stopped to breathe since. He didn't have much time outside of keeping Rosie up to par, so he snatched free moments when he could to work on extra projects. Right now, he was programming a pair of bots he thought would do wonders for their defense system. A knock on the door interrupted him at 0816.

"Muh," he called.

"In other words, enter," said Jensen, coming inside his room. "Breakfast, Jarhead," he added, clapping a hand over Jared's shoulder.

"Huh?" Jared asked, tearing his eyes away from the tiny circuits in his tweezers.

"Breakfast," Jensen knocked his fist on Jared's bicep. "These monsters need feeding or they'll mutate and swallow us whole. Food time, kiddo."

Jared snorted, but put the chip down. "You're lucky I wasn't in the middle of anything ship-vital," he said, stretching until his back popped. "Oh, fuck. Man, how much would it cost for us to employ a masseuse?" he called after Jensen's diminishing form. He stripped off the gloves he wore for bot work and tossed them on the work table.

"Too much. Maybe if you didn't hunch over all the time, you wouldn't have this problem," Jensen called back. Jared shook his head.

"You'll thank me when you see what I'm working on," he said, coming into the kitchen and sitting down. His eyes widened when he looked at the food. "Oh, man, this looks awesome. Wait, where'd you get eggs and bacon?"

Jensen smirked, pulling out Jared’s chair in a flourish. "Turns out one box of that haul was luxury goods," he said. "Guess someone at St. James' Base likes their creature comforts. There's more bacon, eggs, and some fruit, too. Even a piece of chocolate. So they weren't entirely innocent themselves, smuggling shit like that."

"Seriously? _Hell_ yes." Jared punched Jensen in the shoulder. "Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. By which I mean us. Thank you, Robin Hood." He grinned and dug in, moaning at the first bite, perfectly salted.

"It's like you forgot what real food tastes like," Jensen teased.

"Yeah, and whose fault is that, Captain?" Jared said over another bite of eggs.

"Chew with your damn mouth closed, dammit. And tell me what it is I'm going to be so impressed when I see what you're working on?"

"Oh, now you wanna hear?" Jared swallowed. "Well, fine, I'll tell you. It's a pair of seek and destroy bots that work together. Remember I told you I was looking into expanding our defense system after that scrape in Monta?"

"Oh do I ever."

They both shuddered as they remembered that getaway. Jared told him, "These bots are it, man. One's gonna have every kind of locator under the sun--heat detecting, heartbeat search, echolocation, you name it--and rank the things it finds on a ship from important to not important. And the other one's gonna be able to breach a ship hull and burrow into the part targeted as most important by the other bot."

Jensen whistled. "Sounds brutal. Since when do _you_ go around wanting to kill ships full of people?"

"It'll be the last measure in our self-defense," Jared protested. "Besides, Sadie's got a parameter set to target anything _but_ life-support systems, which I have to manually unlock, so she won't be going to kill anyone. Just disable 'em. If we're caught in a jam, Sadie'll help get us out without getting anyone hurt."

"Sadie?" Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow. Jared beamed.

"From her initials. Seek And Destroy, attempt number 13--SAD13. Kinda looks like 'Sadie' on paper, don't you think?" He swallowed another mouthful of bacon. "The other one's Harley."

Jensen just shook his head and laughed. "Next you're gonna be telling me you named the ship parts. No, no, please don't actually tell me that," he hastened to add when Jared opened his mouth. "Look, you crazy kid, let's just get to Echo Base and drop the stuff. Then you can work on your bots until we pick up a new job. How far along are you, anyway, and how are you gonna get that _hull-breaching_ part to work?"

Jared frowned. "Well, that's the toughest," he sighed. "I've gone through a bunch more tests with Harley than I have with Sadie for just that reason. It's gotta be something that can get through a ton of different kinds of material and have a backup plan, you know? Otherwise we'll end up in a crisis situation with some unfamiliar hull alloy and a missile headed right at us or something." He shrugged. "So far the closest I've gotten is a drill and a bomb, but I need to add in a lot of other stuff."

"You need anything at Echo for them?"

"Hmm. Could use an E5 cable," Jared said. "Rest of the stuff's probably gonna be too expensive at Echo, but I'll keep an eye out. We might be able to find it the next couple of months ourselves, anyway, and it's not urgent. I mean, I don't _think_ we have anyone after us who isn't usually, do we?"

"Nothing new pinging me on the news networks, aboveground and below. So I guess your monster machines can wait a while."

"Hey!" Jared pointed a fork at him. "Don't you call my babies monsters. They might save your life someday, you know. Besides, if you hurt their feelings, I'll leave you on Echo and go all the way to the end of space for the insult."

"Y'know, Jared, space is really big," Jensen drawled, this shit-eating grin resting comfortably on his damn face. "Don't know if you could get all the way to the end without your navigator."

"Shut up, prettyboy," Jared shot back, swatting at Jensen's head, but he was hiding his own smile. "Hey, did you ever figure out what your mystery message was?" He waggled his fingers and made his voice shiver at Jensen as he stood up to wash his plate.

Jensen shook his head and wordlessly passed his own dish to Jared to wash. "Not yet, but I found another message I think is connected. I know you think I'm crazy, but I promise you, there's something weird brewing that's resonating through the ads in my inbox. I dunno if someone's trying to use them to communicate or if they're echoing something more dangerous, but I'd gonna find out either way. It's bugging me." Jared could see the light of challenge in his eyes. "I'll talk to Sam Ferris after we take care of usual business at Echo," Jensen went on, naming one of the messaging experts who lived there. Jared frowned in surprise.

"You think this is real enough to take to Sam?" he asked, setting the plates up to dry on their rack. He turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "I guess I'm gonna have to stop making fun of you, then."

Jensen snorted. "That'll be the day. I dunno, maybe I'm just being a paranoid bastard, and the message is from someone we know. But it doesn't feel familiar. So better safe than sorry, right?" Jensen shrugged and stood. "Hey, you wanna help me land this girl?"

They set down on Echo Base at about 0900. There were loops and rigamarole to go through at the gates--you never got out of having to answer a million riddles in code, not when there were smugglers involved--but they made it through like they always did. Jared couldn't help but grin as the motley collection of ships and cobbled-together marketplace that was Echo Base loomed in front of them.

"Don't tell me you actually missed this trash heap," Jensen said, easing the ship over to an empty spot on the shiplot.

"Don't tell me you didn't!" Jared leaned forward to watch the details of the base come into focus on the viewscreen. "Come on, Jensen. Where's your sense of solidarity? Places like this are about as close as smugglers get to home, huh? Don't you wanna see if One-Eyed-Al got his bionic yet? Don't you wanna see what Juana's ship looks like this week?"

"You're too soft, Padalecki," Jensen said, flicking a fond smile at him. "Smugglers' dens are like nests of snakes. Even if they are _our_ snakes."

Jared laughed as Jensen set Rosie down with a gentle bump. "Doesn't mean I can't like 'em," he said, grinning back.

Echo Base sat in the field of trojan asteroids in Sector 4, far out enough out from the sun that government patrols never paid attention to it. Even if they had, it would've been hard to figure out just which asteroid out of the thousands was the hollowed-out one that contained Echo Base--especially since they moved it every month. The inside of the asteroid was lined with every kind of signal scrambling device under the sun, too, and you couldn't just land there out of the blue without damaging your ship. You had to be let in. It was a delicate dance, but worth it: because of all its precautions, it was one of the safer points to make contact with people who wanted illegal things.

Inside, it was bustling and cheerful, the feeling of safety making people a little giddy. There was always music playing somewhere, and the smell of people cooking food on open fires. Jared smiled as they stepped out of Rosie and the sounds washed over him.

He and Jensen gave Rosie a full check-up first thing when they got on safe ground., like they always did. They'd be _nowhere_ without their ship, so it was critical they keep her in tip-top condition. Aside from a couple loose bolts, she looked okay. She was dusty, though and Jared made a mental note to get her washed before they left. They were just tightening the last bolt on her underside when it happened.

"Hey," a voice called through the madness, "Jensen!"

Jared's heart leapt into his throat, and he saw Jensen's shoulders stiffen up, his hand creeping toward the heavy wrench on the ground. It wasn't like no one around Echo Base knew their names--they were all criminals here--but still. It wasn't exactly something you went around broadcasting. "Criminals" did usually include bounty hunters out for your blood, after all, and though Echo had a strict no bounties rule, you never knew what news might travel, or who might be waiting around the corner. Eyes narrowed, Jared searched the source of the crowd for the voice, shifting subtly so that Jensen was further behind him if there was trouble.

He spotted a girl in a khaki pilot's uniform heading toward them, a purposeful expression on her face. That would be the owner of the voice, then. For a second, he didn't recognize her--but then he saw her hair, and everything else clicked. His stomach gave a violent flip and nosedived towards his feet.

"Jensen," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, unable to take his eyes off her. "Jensen, shit, it's--it's _Danneel_."

There was a clatter beside him as Jensen dropped the wrench. "What?"

"Dude, you heard me!" Jared locked his gaze on Jensen's wide eyes. "It's Danneel! Do you know... did you--?" he waved his hands, not even sure what he was trying to ask.

"No!" Jensen hissed, his face pale under his freckles. "Are you sure it's really her?"

Jared glanced up again. "Well, uh, we're going to find out in about ten seconds, 'cause she's no slow walker."

"Shit!" Jensen groaned, and jumped up from the floor.

Jared watched her approach, wave of apprehension washing over him. _Wow_ , there she was in person--and looking every bit as gorgeous as she did in her picture. Her long red hair was tied up in a bun, her nails painted gold the old-fashioned way. She walked like she knew where she was going, her head held high and her arms swinging. She looked like some kind of princess. Jared swallowed.

"Do I look okay?" Jensen demanded, raking his hand over the back of his hair. "Do I have shit in my teeth? Fuck, why do you think she's here? _How_ do you think she's here?"

"I don't know! Smile," Jared ordered. Jensen bared his teeth in a rictus of panic. "No, you're clear. Now shut up, here she comes!"

They both turned to the girl just in time. She smiled brightly at them. "Jensen Ackles?" she said, offering a hand to Jensen. "Hi! It's me, Danneel."

"Uh, yeah, I--I recognize you from your photo, hi," Jensen managed, shaking her hand. “It’s great to meet you in person.”

"Likewise," she said, grinning. Her eyes on Jensen were warm and fond. Jared shifted uncomfortably on his feet and wondered if he should leave. She turned to him before he could make up his mind, though, her hand stuck out.

"You must be Jared!" she said, shaking his. "Jensen's told me tons about you--I feel like I know you already."

"You too," Jared said, pulling on an automatic smile. He was still stuck on the fact that she was _here_ , standing in front of them. He resisted the urge to say something awkward, like, _We have your picture on the wall and we talk to it._

Jensen cleared his throat, brow furrowing. "Look, not that I don't love surprises, but what are you doing here? I haven't heard from you in a month, and Echo Base isn't exactly the kind of place you can just run into someone... how’d you get here?”

"Well, I thought it was about time that you and I met in person so we can figure out if we really want to get married. Don't look so shocked!" She laughed a little, like she hadn't just dropped a bombshell. Jared reeled back a little as her words sank in, eyes going wide; when snuck a furtive glance at Jensen, who looked just as shocked, mouth open. "And as for how I got here,” she continued, “I hitched a ride with my friend Jim Beaver."

"You know Jim?" Jared blurted out. He and Jensen had always had good dealings with Beaver, an honest smuggler and a good man, but he'd never had any idea Beaver knew _Danneel_.

She nodded and pointed behind her; in the far distance, Jared could make out the bulky shape of Jim's ship, _Cecily_ , in the dim, smoky air. "He said you could ask him if you didn't believe me--no offense, but smugglers are usually suspicious, so I figured you might not."

"Wait, sorry, back up a second," Jensen said, tilting his head to the side. He crossed his arms, brow knotted with puzzlement. "You came to see if you really want to marry me, did I hear that right?"

She nodded. "That's about the size of it. Listen, Jensen--there was _nothing_ for me on Cronus, you know that from my letters. Spending day after day in that factory trying to convince myself it was where I was supposed to be?" Her nose wrinkled, and she shook her head with finality. "No thank you, sir. I was going crazy. I figured anything had to be better than that, so I decided I'd take a chance and look for you. I was getting tired of waiting around to see if you'd come back to New Texas, to be frank. Not that I begrudge you at all," she hastened to add, shaking her head firmly as if to sweep the thought away. "That would be pretty hypocritical, since I've been itching to head spaceside myself… ”

"Okay, so that explains how and why you’re here, but how'd you find _us_ specifically?" Jensen shifted forward, all casual interest, but Jared caught the suspicion curling snakelike under the words. It was a real concern when you were in their business--you didn’t want anybody to be able to find you, just the other way around. "That's not exactly easy.”

"It was pure luck,” Danneel said, leaning forward and shaking her head with amazement. “Jim just thought someone around here might know where you were headed, roughly, and we were coming this way anyway--He had a shipment to sell off. I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d be coming."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked Jensen in the eye, her face scrubbed clean of any artifice. "Look, I know this is really out of the blue and probably pretty weird, but I mean, we've kinda been beating around the bush for a year and a half now, haven't we? Not talking about it, not making concrete plans... and there's no way to really know if we want to do this unless we actually spend some time together in the real world, don't you think?” She raised her eyebrows a little, smiling hopefully. “I'm not much one for epistolary romances.”

“Well, yeah, that makes sense.” Jensen scratched the back of his neck and frowned. “So you want to, what--spend a couple days here? Go back to Sector 2 together?”

"I want to come with you,” she corrected, tilting her face at Rosie eagerly. “I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to halt your life just ‘cause I got tired of waiting around. If I come with you, you don’t have to, and I get to get far away from Cronus. Win-win. Besides, I can be a big help to you. I won't just be deadweight! I can pay for room and board, and I've been going to night school. Got my pilot's license last month." She dug a folded piece of paper out of her side pocket and unfolded it, pointing to a line with one gold nail.

"Pilot's license? You never said anything about that," Jensen exclaimed. He peered down at the paper, the lines of his frown smoothing into a look of admiration, and something in Jared’s gut twisted a little. After three years, he could fly Rosie all right when he had to, but he was nothing fancy and he'd never gone to pilot school...

"Surprise," Danneel said, quirking her lips in a half-smile. “I may have been thinking about this for a while. You made it sound pretty great. I mean, I'll be honest, I mostly end up going for girls--"

Jared blinked at the calm way she just came right out and said it--

"But... I like you, Jensen." Her face turned soft, smile widening, and she shrugged a little. "At least from your letters. I wanted to find out sooner rather’n later if maybe this could work. No use wasting time, yeah? And if it doesn’t work, we can figure it out from there, I figure. No pressure whatsoever--I’ll be out of your hair in a second flat. You can just drop me off at a port nearby or something."

She bit her lip and glanced up at them both, hope shining in her eyes like starlight. "So? What do you say? You guys willing to consider a third crew member, or should I hightail back to Jim before you deck me for the suggestion?” she asked, grinning.

Jared watched at Jensen out of the corner of his eye, heart thumping hard under his breast bone. His own mind was racing, and he didn’t know what to think, but Jensen's face was a puzzle, his eyebrows raised and his lips pursed as he read over Danneel’s license again. Jared held his breath, not quite knowing what reaction he was hoping for. He didn’t get first say here, after all.

"Well," Jensen said after a beat. "I guess I'd be willing to give it a shot. You’re pretty persuasive, what with this fancy pilot’s license.” He scratched the back of his neck a little sheepishly, and Jared let out his breath, heart twinging strangely with a feeling he couldn’t name. “I can't say I was expecting you to just _show up_ ,” Jensen went on, “and some advanced warning would've been nice, but--" the corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. "I’d be pretty stupid to say no to a free pilot, if nothing else."

Danneel laughed, and Jared suddenly felt huge and out of place, like he shouldn’t here. After all, hadn’t that been Jensen’s supposed endgame? Him and Danneel up in the stars together? Jared's heart clenched at the thought, and something small and sharp inside him hissed, _But Rosie and Jensen were_ _ **mine**_ _first--_

"But I'm sorry--it's only if it's okay with Jared," Jensen added firmly before Jared could chase that selfish thought. Jensen clapped his hand down on Jared’s shoulder, where it sat solid and warm. "The ship's as much his as it is mine, after all, and he’s my copilot. He gets full say." He turned to smile at Jared.

Jared's stomach lurched. He found himself looking away before Jensen's eyes could catch his, his pulse pounding heavy in his wrists.

"S’okay with me," he got out. What else was he supposed to say? He curled his lips up in the best approximation of a smile he could, though his mouth felt rubbery and weird. "More hands means less work for us, right?"

"Great!" Danneel exclaimed, clapping her hands together and beaming. “Oh, thanks, guys, you really won’t regret it. When do we leave?"

Jared bit his lip, glancing in the direction of Jensen’s shoulder. "We still need to find Tien," he said.

"Yeah, and get that E5 cable,” Jensen said, snapping his fingers. “I gotta talk to Sam and unload some other stuff, too... sixteen hundred should be enough time to get everything we need, I think. Is that okay with you, Danneel?”

"Works just fine for me. Do you guys need help with anything, or can I meet you back here then? I have a couple more things I wanted to pick up first, too," she said. "And I gotta say goodbye to Jim."

"I think we're good," said Jensen. "Go grab what you need--we'll be here at 1600."

She grinned at them sunnily. "Gotcha. Can't wait!" And with that she turned and threaded her way back through the chaos of the smuggler's market, a new bounce in her step.

"So," Jared said after she was far enough away, clearing his throat. His mouth felt really dry, and his palms were sweating. "Uh. That was unexpected."

"You're telling me," said Jensen, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows as he followed her figure in the crowd. "Man. I feel like I just got run over by a truck, if the truck was full of logic and had red hair."

Jared gave a weak _hm_ of a laugh and wiped his hands on his coverall pants. He felt strange, a line of tenseness sinking down his spine. "She seems okay," he hazarded, more question than anything. "I didn't think she was lying, at least, and it’ll be nice, having some help on board, yeah?" He tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged, at a loss for words.

Jensen nodded, a furrow digging into his brow. "I'll ask around all the same--go see Jim before Sam, maybe, just to be sure. She seemed legit, but you can never be too careful.”

He exhaled a short burst of air, turning finally to look at Jared. “Man. Of all the times I imagined meeting her, I never thought I'd be wearing dirty coveralls at Echo, of all places." He grimaced and plucked at his grease-stained front. "Oh well. You win some, you lose some, I guess."

"Peacock," Jared said, smiling a little in spite of himself. "She already likes you, it's not like you have to try."

Again, that little ache in his chest, that weird visceral twist down in his gut--he turned away before Jensen could see his frown. Then a thought struck him. "Dude, if she's coming with, where is she going to sleep?"

"Oh. Hmm." Jensen's mouth scrunched in a wince. "Good question."

"One of our rooms, I guess, and we'll bunk," Jared said. He grimaced, brushing hair out of his face. "Uh, I mean, unless you wanna... " He waved his hand.

"We just met--I don't think we're gonna wanna sleep in the same bed just yet," Jensen said hastily. His face fell. "Man, are you you're okay with bunking? I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that. I could sleep in the cargo hold--" he started, but Jared cut him off.

"No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. Don’t worry, it'll be cool!" He tried for a grin. "We'll be like twelve-year-olds. Sleepover every night, dude."

"Oh, god," Jensen groaned, eyes crinkling in a smile. "What have I gotten myself into? You're not going to stick my bra in the freezer overnight, are you?" Jared was startled into a laugh, and Jensen's grin widened. "Just know that if you do, there'll be hell to pay, Padalecki. But I guess we'd better pick up some extra bed parts and a mattress, too, huh?"

They went to Misha Collins for those--in addition to selling a wide array of custom woodwork furniture that had a creepily devoted following among the high class of Sector 3, the man also sold more practical things, like beds that could hide up to sixty pounds of contraband. They snagged a good E5 cable from him, too, along with some more food supplies. Jensen ended up selling a pound of their bacon for a new medkit and an old radio system for Jared to take apart and use for Rosie; Jared mourned the loss of the bacon, but admitted it was practical. He himself bought an industrial welder to cannabalize for parts for Harley, a prospect so tantalizing it set him itching for the engine room and his tools.

After that, he and Jensen split up. Jensen went to Sam, and Jared went back to Rosie to start putting in the extra bed. He put it in his own room, figuring that if it had been _his_ arranged fiancé plunking down into the middle of their life, he wouldn’t have made Jensen switch rooms.

The work helped clear his mind--it was a good, solid bed, and watching it take shape under his hands made him like he was actually accomplishing something. It was the same reason he liked working on bots so much--software was all well and good, but with bots, you had something to show at the end. His weird restlessness had almost gone by the time Jensen got back from Sam and came in to help him.

“You learn anything useful?” Jared asked him through a mouthful of screws.

Jensen rolled his neck and tapped in a slat carefully. “Well, she didn’t think I was spooking at nothing,” he said. “She said there wasn’t enough to mean anything yet, either, though. She said to keep watch and let her know if anything else showed up. Pretty much confirmed my own thoughts, really, but hey, I’ll take that over a 'you're too jumpy, kid' any day.”

Jared spat one of the screws out and held it up to Jensen. “Maybe it’s a treasure map,” he teased. Jensen snorted.

“Keep dreaming. And that’s disgusting, by the way. You could just hold them.” Jared licked the screw in reply and grinned around the other two when Jensen batted the back of his head in retaliation.

The ring of the ship comm system interrupted them before they could get into a hardware fight. Jared glanced down his watch: 1600 on the dot. Jensen jogged down the stairs and came back a moment later with Danneel, who had a single duffle bag swung over her shoulder. Jensen’s room had been cleared by for her then, and the three of them shuffled in to look. Danneel eyed the empty space, practically glowing with pleasure.

"This is _perfect_ ,” she said. “Wow. Beautiful ship, though I'm sure you know that. You built her, right, Jared?"

Jared beamed, straightening up a little. "Right up from this crunched-up little frame Jensen brought me," he agreed. “Man, she was a mess. I took one look at her and thought, _this guy's an idiot--_ _this thing’ll never fly._ I was wrong on one of those counts."

“Hey!”

Danneel snickered. "Well thanks for letting me have a place on her, for a while at least. I swear you won’t regret it.” Then she turned to Jensen. “Speaking of--Jensen, do you wanna show me where I’ll be flying?"

"Oh, sure," Jensen said, motioning her out the door. “It’s through this way… “

"Guess I'll finish the bed," Jared called after them.

“Sounds good!” Jensen yelled back.

Jared chewed his lip as another wave of weirdness washed through him, settling to churn in his stomach. He scowled and shook his head at himself. _What is_ _ **wrong**_ _with you, Padalecki?_ he thought, dragging a hand through his hair.

There was no reason for him to go into the cockpit, he reminded himself. He knew where everything was already. And Jensen and Danneel would probably want some time to get to know each other without Jared looming over their shoulders. Blowing out a sigh, he grabbed the bed supports and got back to work, concentrating on making things level and trying not to feel too much like he was getting left out.

\---

  
Jensen pulled out the big guns that night. He cooked up a fancy dinner of fried rice using some more of the bacon and eggs from the contraband box, and a couple handfuls of frozen broccoli from their newly-refreshed store. Of the two of them, Jensen was definitely the better cook--the most Jared could manage was protein bars on a plate with some crackers and VegSpread ("Keeps your body ship-shape spaceside!™ "). They had to pull up a spare crate for Danneel to sit on because they hadn’t thought to buy another chair.

Jared, determined not to let his weird mood spoil things, made sure to ask Danneel plenty of enthused questions, nodding and laughing when he was supposed to. He didn’t have to pretend--she had a devilish sense of humor which made it hard to dislike her. Jensen seemed to be enjoying her company, too, a little smile playing on his lips as he listened to their back-and-forth. That was good, Jared thought firmly, smoothing down any impulse that told him otherwise.

When they were finished with the food, Danneel balanced her chin on her hands and asked, "Do you guys tell stories after dinner? You never mentioned in your letters, Jensen.”

"We don't usually," Jensen said, scratching the back of his neck. "But we can, if you want to--yeah?" He met Jared's eyes, and Jared saw a thread of uncertainty there.

"Sure," said Jared, setting his fork down. "I never say no to a good story."

Telling stories after dinner was more of a Recent tradition--a way of keeping people feeling close and sane on long ship voyages, as far as Jared understood it. Some Settled people still did it as a way to honor their history, but for the most part the practice had just dropped off. Jared had never grown up with stories after dinner, and neither had Jensen, as far as he knew.

"Is there a certain kind of story we're supposed to tell, or can it just be anything?" he asked, leaning back.

"It can be anything. It doesn't even have to be personal--I've heard myths, history, whatever. In my hometown, there was a guy who used to recite transcripts from NetTV broadcasts he remembered,” she told them, laughing a little. “He did the commercial voices perfectly. I can go first, if you want an example."

"Now that’d just be rude of us, putting you on the spot like that," Jensen said, giving a firm shake of his head and pushing his lips out in exaggerated disapproval. "It's your first night here--one of us’ll go first."

“All right,” Danneel said. An impish smile touched her lips, and she turned to Jared, eyes sparkling. “In that case… Jared, got any embarrassing stories about Jensen?”

Jared was surprised into a grin. "Jensen here ever tell you about the time he flew us right into the middle of a government drugs bust?” he drawled. He threw an arm over Jensen’s shoulders and dragged him close, knuckling Jensen’s hair.

Danneel let out a snort of laughter. “No, he somehow left that out of his letters,” she said, raising an eyebrow at Jensen. “ _Do_ tell.”

“I tell you, he’s the best pilot in the system, but not that day.” Jared snapped his fingers. “Bam. Set us smack dab in the middle of Fed City.”

Jensen groaned theatrically and put his face in his hands. "You are never gonna let me live that down, are you?" he asked the table.

“Nope,” Jared said, grinning, and launched into the story, keeping Jensen close. He made it as exciting as he could, putting on voices and using his hands to describe the scene in the air. Danneel gasped and exclaimed in all the right places, and by the end of it she was curled over the table, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Jared smirked and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I win,” he told Jensen.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Jensen muttered. He gave Jared a dark look. “Just wait till I tell her about you and Chad’s wild ride to New Dalliston.”

“Hey! You promised--”

“Save it for next time, Jensen, I don’t think I can handle it,” Danneel breathed, wiping away tears of laughter. “Wow. I don’t know how I’m gonna top that, Jared.”

“You should tell him about the voyage from Old Earth,” Jensen said, face brightening. “That’s a good one.”

“You actually _remember_ that?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, I do. The voyage, anyway. I was born on my ship, actually.” She pursed her lips, considering. “Okay. Guess that’s a good one for my first night here."

She leaned back, and the shadows smoothed her face into something out-of-reach and beautiful, a study in planes of gold and brown. "Her name was _Mira_. She was one of the old cargo freighters, those big behemoths that got turned into floating ghost towns the second their engines died?" Her eyes flicked out to the stars in the porthole behind Jared, and she shrugged. "I mean, we have better technology now, so why bother, everyone says? They got stripped for scrap metal and stuff."

Her mouth twitched, and for a second, she looked wistful; then she tilted her face forward into the light and smiled, and Jared was left thinking he must have imagined it--must have. It would have looked so out of place on her sunny face.

"My parents lived in the USA in a state called Louisiana. If you look it up in a history book, it'll say that by our Flight it was ravaged by floods and malaria and economic downturn--“ she waved her hand expansively and rolled her eyes--“whatever, you name it. A place hanging on the edge of swamps and wilderness just waiting to swallow it up. But hearing my parents talk about it, you wouldn't think that at all. It always used to sound beautiful to me... "

She shook her head slowly. "It was so weird to them thinking that all of that was just _gone,_ you know? The minute that warp drive went on, their old life was dying faster than they could blink.”She snapped her fingers. “I mean, _Mira_ wasn’t home to them, not like she was to me.”

“What was it like?” Jared burst out, leaning forward over the table. “Growing up one of those ships?”

He'd seen the fleet of ships that had brought people from Old Earth just once--the shells hung like dead asteroids around the port of Nova Caledonia in Sector 1, glittering if you caught them at the right angle. His own ancestors had arrived in the system over a hundred years ago on one of them,

He tried to picture living inside one; being a kid with no sky above you, no grass or dirt except for whatever was in hydroponics. Metal walls and stars would be your only reference points. The image seemed so alien--though he loved Rosie, and knew in his heart that she was as close to home as he got these days, he couldn’t imagine growing up somewhere where you’d feel the limits of your world so keenly. Being a kid was supposed to be about freedom. How could you be free, boxed in like that?

A fond smile grew on Danneel’s face, gentle as the curve of a horizon. “It was crowded,” she said ruefully. “Real crowded. We were one of the last, and there were people from every corner of the world crammed into that ship. You could barely walk a foot without crashing into somebody. But I loved it. All us kids loved it, the little ones anyway. I don’t think I really understood the way my parents felt back then. They were excited to come, sure, but there was something they were really leaving behind, you know?”

“Something they were never going to get back,” Jensen murmured. Jared glanced over at him, forehead knotted, but Jensen’s face was shadowed and unreadable.

“Exactly,” Danneel said. “They could never really go home again, and that… it changed them, I think. Whereas as far as I was concerned, Mira was home, and the best place in the universe. I went to school in-ship, I played in-ship, I lived in-ship. There just wasn’t anything else. The voyage took six years, and that was my home. Going from her to even just Central Base was a huge shift, and the first time I stepped planetside, I hated it.”

“You hated it?” Jared echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. He cocked his head at Danneel. “You weren’t, I don't know, relieved to see the sky?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. It felt way too open, unprotected. You know those insect displays where they have all the dead moths pinned to cardboard? That was what I felt like. I got to love being out under the sky as I grew up, but that first time... no way.

"Even the ground was weird. They took us down onto the planet Viridis for registration, and I remember throwing up for days because the grav was off." She nodded at Jared's wince. "Yeah, not a great start. I did get used to being planetside eventually, though. We were assigned to start out on Cronus, so there we went, and there I stayed till I hitched a ride off with Jim a few weeks ago.” She smiled and stretched her shoulders up, looking out the porthole again. “Feels really nice to be back out in stars, I tell you.”

Jared whistled lowly. He couldn't help but imagine her as a tiny kid, feeling so out of place in worlds that had been so familiar to him. Danneel had grown up a full-on interstellar adventurer-- _No wonder you didn't want to stay on Cronus,_ he thought. _No wonder you wanted more. It’s only natural._ He wondered what other unexpected things were hiding behind her sweet smile.

He went to the engine room after Jensen had told the last story, vaguely unsettled. Danneel and Jensen had stayed in the kitchen, but Jared’s hands longed for something to do, some distraction, so he dragged the welding tool he’d bought at Echo onto his workshop table and set about pulling it apart. There was just something soothing about the destruction of a machine. There were no surprises: you unhooked and coaxed pieces out one by one till you were left with a skeleton that could be reassembled the same way you’d taken it apart. Predictable, easy, nonviolent. By the time he was done, he felt calm enough to sleep.

Jensen was already in the top bunk with the lights off when Jared came in. _Dammit, I should have grabbed that earlier,_ Jared thought. He’d have to steal it back. Scowling, he changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and crawled in under the top bunk. He felt kind of caged and small having something over his head that muted sound and light, but he guessed he’d get used to it.

He was wiggling around, trying to get comfy, when Jensen shifted above him with a soft waking sigh. “Hey,” he said, voice husky with sleep. “Sup?”

“Shit, sorry, did I wake you up? I’ll be quieter next time,” Jared whispered, wincing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jensen murmured. Biting his lip Jared arranged the rest of the covers around himself with as little noise as possible. Then, “Hey, Jared,” came a whisper from above.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, squinting up at nothing.

There was a pause, then a rustle of sheets as if Jensen was turning in the bed. “Are you really okay with this?” Jensen asked. “Danneel, I mean.”

“What?” Jared said, heartbeat kicking up. “Of course I am.”

“Because if you’re not, I get it.” Jensen went on, concern clear as day in his voice. “And we don't have to do this, seriously. She and I can figure stuff out later if you’re uncomfortable. You know that, right?"

Jared hesitated only a second. “Dude, what kind of friend would I be if I kicked your fiancé off our ship?” he asked, canting his words up cheerfully. He tamped down on a hot bubble of selfishness that wanted to rise up, and closed his eyes. “Sure, it might be kinda weird at first, but I like her. She seems nice.” Those things were both true. “We can keep her.”

Jensen's soft laugh brushed over his ears, velvety in the darkness. “She’s not a pet, but all right.” He blew out a loud breath. "Just tell me if it gets too weird, okay. You're--important. You're important too, man."

A warm glow spread through Jared's body from his belly, and he smiled a little into his pillow. It was kind of embarrassing how good it made him feel to hear that, like the words had cleared some of the fog in his brain away. That didn’t mean he was going to let a prime opportunity pass, though. "Aww, Jensen," he cooed. "Are we having a moment?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Jared could hear the smile in Jensen’s voice. “Man, here I am trying to be all nice--“

Jared half-laughed under his breath, leaning his foot up to kick the bottom of Jensen’s bed. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Look--I will tell you if it gets weird, but it won't.” He threaded another spark of brightness through his words. “And hey--your princess found you, Cinderella. This is what you've been wanting the whole time, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied quietly, after a beat. “Guess so.”

His voice sounded a little flat. Jared kicked the bottom of his bed again, gentle this time. “Dude, go back to sleep," he ordered. "You sound like a zombie."

" _You_ go to sleep," Jensen muttered back.

"Maybe I will, so there." Jared stuck his tongue out, and crossed his eyes for good measure.

"I know you're sticking your tongue out," Jensen said, all fond warmth. "Asshole."

"Butthead," Jared shot back, grinning when Jensen snickered. "I am sorry to inform you that 'butthead' wins over 'asshole' any day, Jensen. It's in the Insult Code."

"Oh, shut up and go to sleep," Jensen said. "And hey, Jared. Seriously--thanks for being my best friend."

Jared's heart flipped sickly in his chest, and he coughed to clear the sudden tightness in his throat. "You're welcome," he said. Then he turned over and shut his eyes, willing himself to fall quickly into dreams.

He didn't sleep until long after Jensen's breathing had evened out.

\---

  
The next couple of weeks were--well, different. "Different" about covered it all, Jared thought, pursing his lips as he fiddled with a tiny chip in the earpiece he was finishing. Danneel and Jensen were going over the plan in the other room, their voices a steady, soothing babble; Jared wished it was calming him down like background noise usually did, but the restlessness that had gripped him by the throat all day was still holding him tight, almost choking.

They’d pulled a couple routine jobs since Echo, just getting Danneel used to how they did things--a quick run to Sector 5 for Ruurian hematite, then back to Sector 1 for the drop and a liberation of several crates of Mendelcorps computer chips from their warehouse. They’d picked up another couple of tiny things along the way--some counterfeit copies of a medium-famous art piece and an old professor’s creepy collection of fish skeletons that needed to be moved to a museum. On the first big job, Jensen and Jared had done the pickup together while Danneel hovered with Rosie, ready for takeoff, but Jensen had her on the ground by herself for the second job, a sort of sink or swim situation. It had gone off without a hitch. Since then, they’d been focusing on this next job--one Danneel had found,, threading through the networks like Jared had taught her to.

Having Danneel with them was definitely proving great in a lot of respects, there was no doubt about that. An extra pair of hands on the ship made everything go much smoother--in fact, Jared was forced to wonder why they hadn't hired on someone new before now. With Danneel taking shifts of flying and helping Jensen with cargo hauls, Jared had way more time to focus on upgrades to the ship and general maintenance, which meant that Rosie was in better shape than ever before. He'd already smoothed out the alignment of her thrusters and fixed the jerky warp drive entry, and was planning on expanding the cloaking device next. He'd even had time to finish the latest versions of Harley and Sadie, and he had to admit that it was great to have time for stuff he was _good_ at. He’d missed working his best girl Rosie.

Danneel fit right in with them on a personal level, too. Jared couldn’t help but like her. She was bright and full of infectious energy, and would banter back and forth with him like a champ on any ridiculous subject till they had Jensen bent over the controls in the cockpit, wracked with laughter. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, either, and true to her word, she was an excellent flier, which she'd proved with a quick getaway on their last job. She was singleminded in her focus, which made her perfect for their kind of work, and the three of them made a seamless team when planning. So overall, there was pretty much nothing to complain about. As far as people crashing into your life from left field and begging you to take them on your spaceship went, Jared and Jensen had lucked out. Still...

Jared hated himself for it, but something about her being there just set his teeth on edge sometimes.

He threw down the earpiece and buried his head in his hands, yanking at his hair. _What the hell is your problem, Padalecki?_ he wondered for the hundredth time.

It didn't make any sense. He _liked_ Danneel. They had a lot of fun together, and he could feel that things had the potential to slide into a really solid friendship. But there was some stubborn part of him that just twisted itself into knots every time he thought of Jensen marrying her, though she clearly made him happy. Jared was fine when it was him and Jensen, or him and Danneel, but put the three of them together and his mind started to tick with these weird, petty thoughts. He thunked his forehead down on his desk and groaned in frustration.

It was little things, really. Tiny, _stupid_ things. Like how he'd come into the kitchen, hollering for Jensen, and see her reading one of Jensen’s serials there; feel a flash of hot embarrassment for forgetting, then guilt for interrupting her, then fist-curling frustration for no good reason. Or how he would hear Jensen teasing her the same way he teased Jared, the two of them talking politics in the cockpit or trading friendly barbs about sports teams--god, it made him want to stomp his feet like a little kid and drag Jensen away to a secret clubhouse or something, No Girls Allowed. _Mature, Jared_ , his mind sneered.

He’d admitted to himself a few days after her arrival that the uncomfortable thoughts snarling in the spare corners of his brain were jealousy, and though that had been an embarrassing thing to realize--okay, great, he was apparently an emotional twelve year old nervous about losing his best friend to a girl, of all the cliché things--he'd thought that maybe it would go away once he named it. That was how things were _supposed_ to work. After all, it was completely baseless jealousy. Jensen had flat-out said that Jared was just as important to him as Danneel, and Jared had seen the limits of Jensen's loyalty tested enough times on missions to know what that meant. They were best friends, and that was never changing. Some small part of Jared knew that, a piece of iron truth he held close to himself: Jensen was never going to abandon him, and Danneel was never going to replace him.

So why the hell was he still jealous of her? It didn’t make any sense. He should be better than this. He grimaced, turning so his cheek rested on the cool metal of his desk. What kind of horrible jerk was he if he didn't want his best friend to be happy with the girl of his dreams?

 _But that's not it,_ another corner of his mind chimed in. _Of course I want him to be happy, of course I do, I just--I want him to be happy with_ me _like he is with Danneel_ \--

The stray words clicked into place like a watch mechanism, and Jared bolted upright. In a second, it all flashed clear. He wasn't pissed off at Danneel for barging in. He was jealous--viciously jealous--because _he_ had less-than-platonic feelings for Jensen.

Nausea swooped through him, and he gripped the edge of his desk so tight it made his fingers ache. His mind raced, stumbling over memories and pulling the pieces together. That thrill when Jensen came into a room--the way Jared’s whole body lit up, giddiness blooming warm in his belly. How invincible it made him feel when he made Jensen laugh, how he _strived_ for that stupid smirky half-smile, making an idiot of himself just to see it. How Jensen made everything seem brighter and better without even trying, . Jared had always chalked those feelings up to the intensity of their friendship, but if he was honest with himself, he knew that didn’t even begin to cover it. He’d never felt that way about Chad, after all. The closest he’d come was Sandy.

His first instinct was to deny it, burn the thought out of his brain and never touch the tender spot again. But he knew it was useless. You could never really kid yourself once you'd realized something like that; if you shoved it down and tried to ignore it, it would just keep floating back up to the surface. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could crawl into a black hole so he didn’t have to deal with this. Fuck, he was in so much trouble.

Of course he’d noticed Jensen was gorgeous. It was impossible not to. He looked like the impossibly handsome guys on the government propoganda posters. That strong jaw and perfect mouth were straight from a film reel, and the clean lines of his body made Jared’s breath catch sometimes. He’d just never thought that meant anything _real_. He noticed guys every now and then, yeah, but you could recognize something objectively without it meaning anything, and he’d thought that was all the was going on. Apparently not.

"Shit," he whispered to himself miserably.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, and another. He focused on that, shoving everything else out of his mind. Slowly, he felt his heartbeat calm a little, and his hands unclenched on the desk. He blew out a shaky sigh and picked up the earpiece again, hands moving mindlessly while his brain churned on.

He wasn't sure how he was going to stop being jealous of Danneel--or look Jensen in the eye, for that matter--but he'd have to figure out some way to do both. Because the thing was, Jared’s inconvenient feelings didn't matter. They changed nothing. Jensen and Danneel were falling in love, and Jared wasn’t going to ruin that. Not for all the stars in the galaxy.

Jensen was his best friend, and that meant way more to Jared than--whatever this was, this huge new thing curling up over his heart like thick, choking ivy. He would just have to get over it. He would have to be okay with Jensen and Danneel getting married, and being here, because the alternative was leaving, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. Go back to New Texas now, leaving them alone with Rosie and everything he’d poured his heart into over the last three years? No way.

So he would get over it. He _would_. He'd be happy for them when they married and happy when they had their kids, and in the meantime he'd just take it day by day and try not to be a colossal jerk--try not to stare at them or let the jealousy eat away at him. Everything was going to be okay.

And anyway, he didn't have time to freak out about this now--these earpieces had to be ready by tonight, for the job which Danneel had found. _The job which saved Jensen from doing something he hates,_ he reminded himself. _Thanks to Danneel, he doesn’t have to up his killcount to five._

He bit his lip. By silent agreement, he and Jensen hadn’t told Danneel about the bounty hunting jobs Jensen had done alone in the last three years yet. Jared hoped they wouldn't have to, because he hated the fact of them more than anything else in the world. Watching Jensen come back from one, dead-eyed and weary to the bone, made him sick with helplessness and black fury, and he never wanted either of them to have to relive that unless it was absolutely necessary.

The thing was, Jensen had picked up some unconventional skills working for Jeff Morgan. He was a good fighter, a good tracker, and knew how to kill someone quickly and efficiently if he had to. And sometimes he had to. There were long dry runs in the smuggling business every now and then, or a shipment loss that incurred a huge debt that had to be paid off--time when they'd gotten close to running out of energy to power their ship or food and water to keep them going. The last time it had been both. Jared had combed and combed the networks for work, putting out calls through his sandpaper-dry throat and writing messages while his stomach growled, but luck was against them. His pleas had gotten more desperate, his promises more outrageous-- _two free shipments, Al, I promise you, whatever you want, drugs, weapons_ \--and finally, Jensen had plunked down in the cockpit, set a course for a planet, and told Jared in a tight voice that he'd take care of it.

It had happened four times total. Jared would take whatever mind-numbing temporary job he could find and wait on tenterhooks each night for some kind of confirmation that Jensen was still alive, still flying. Jensen could never send one, so Jared would end up watch every news network for info about a murderer caught, heart in his throat. Jensen would just show up a day or a week later, beat down and dead-eyed, and they'd be off the planet as fast as they could fly. Jared would make him sleep in the co-pilot's chair in the cockpit for a day or so, or put Rosie on autopilot and shoulder his way into Jensen's room. It was more selfish than anything else; he needed the comfort of seeing Jensen alive.

It paid the bills when they needed money fast, and that was the only thing you could say for it. They'd been getting to that point last week, just about. The job for Tien had paid off all the new equipment they needed, but there were still debts they hadn't settled from a while ago that needed to be paid, and Jared hadn't been able to catch word of any open jobs. Then Danneel had come up with this unusual one, to Jared's intense relief.

This one wasn't like many they'd done before. They were to steal a docdrive from a guy who never took it off--wore it like a badge next to his military patches. Word on the street was it had pictures of his mistress on it, but their client thought maybe there were state secrets on it instead, and wanted it for herself. Which meant they were kitting out to catch this guy at a _luxury ballroom_ of all places, and that they were parking Rosie and dressing up fancy for an evening to get inside. That beat bounties any day of the week, Jared thought darkly, closing the casing on the earpiece and suppressing a shudder at old memories.

Jared would be dressed as a guard and insinuating himself into their ranks in order to let Jensen and Danneel out after the theft. Jensen and Danneel would be playing the young society things--Jensen was better at that accent than Jared, and a gentleman with a young lady looked much less suspicious than one without at these stupid functions. They'd parked in a forest with good camouflage, and Danneel and Jensen were changing into their outfits. Jared had already changed into his, but Jensen had needed Danneel's help to do up all the buttons in the back of his. Jared tried not to let the thought burn in him-- _focus, Jared, focus_ \--and put the final touch on the earpiece with some instadry camoskin coating. These earpieces would slip into their ears and remain invisible till taken out, and they'd need them to stay in touch with Jared.

He checked the clock. An hour till the ball started, which meant he should be heading off soon. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way to the kitchen. “Hey guys, I finished your--“

He broke off, staring. Jensen and Danneel were standing by the table, and they looked surreally beautiful. Danneel was a perfect picture of elegance; her hair was swept up into elaborate curls under a fancy gold hairpin, and she wore a flowing purple with iridescent bands in the skirt that put him in mind of aurorae. She looked gorgeous--alluring without being overtly sexual, and sweet without being childish. She made the perfect wife to Jensen’s soldier.

And Jensen--fuck. Jared's face flamed, his recent realization making everything ten thousand times worse. Jensen looked so sharp in his uniform, the asymmetrical gold epaulet emphasizing his powerful shoulders and the grey silk belt outlining his waist in a way that made Jared go warm and fluttery. He had shaved off the scruffy stubble he usually wore, and it made Jared ache to run his fingers over the skin of his jaw. Shame and jealousy tied him in knots, and he swallowed and dropped his gaze, avoiding both of their eyes.

"Here you go, guys," he said, pushing as much cheer into his voice as he could manage. The two of them looked _made_ for each other. He tried to smile somewhere between them. "Second one's done." He set it on the table.

"Awesome," Danneel said, picking it up. "This looks perfect, Jared. You're walking to the palace first, right?"

"Just like we planned,” Jared agreed, smoothing down sick irritation. "Do I look okay?"

She grinned at him. "Perfect. People're gonna be all over you, Hot Guard."

He forced a laugh. "Well, good. They'll be distracted, then. Okay, I'm heading out. Don't wanna be late." He tried to duck into the stairwell before things got worse, but Jensen caught his sleeve as he passed.

"Hey, Jared--" Jared caught a frown on his face out of the corner of his eye. "You okay? You seem kinda--weird."

Jared could feel the warmth of Jensen's hand burning through his uniform, setting his skin tingling. "Fine," he muttered over the beating of his heart, and smiled up at Jensen for as long as he could bear. "Just nervous. Think walking will help." He tugged his arm from Jensen's grasp, lip between his teeth.

Jensen let go of him, still frowning. "If you're sure," he said.

"I'm sure," Jared said. He tossed one more smile back at Danneel and fled downstairs out the doorlock before anyone could say anything else.

Outside, the air was heavy and warm. He welcomed the change, gulping in huge breaths of it to regain his balance. The jungle they'd come down in was lush, bursting with spring flowers, and the sight of the colors calmed Jared, as did the silence. _You can do this,_ he reminded himself. _It just might take a while. But you can_. The words sounded hollow in his head, but he didn't have time to try and convince himself fully; he would just have to push on through this for now. He blew out a breath and started forward, trying to focus on the job ahead.

In the distance, the lighted ballroom gleamed; he ducked under a vine and started to make his way toward it.

\---

He woke up with the taste of his own blood in his mouth.

 _Blood--not good,_ he thought muzzily. Where had that come from? He tried to drag up his memory of last night, but there was nothing there but a handful of images like fragments of broken glass. A dark green blur, pools of light, and drifting strains of music... he grimaced and made himself open his eyes, swallowing over the blood.

He was somewhere dark, sitting on a chair. He squinted into the hazy blackness around him but couldn't make anything out. Where was he? Not home, for sure. Didn't smell like home. Which meant--which meant something bad. His chest went tight as he tried to remember the plan he and Jensen had for situations like this. Why was his head so full of cotton?

He couldn't move his arms, he realized sluggishly. Had he gotten into a fight with someone? No, that couldn’t be it--his jaw didn't ache, and he couldn't feel any other bruises on his body. He pushed harder, and managed to catch a better wisp of memory: a purple dress, his kitchen.

He closed his eyes. Yeah, he remembered that dress--he remembered getting ready on the ship for the ball, Jensen and Danneel making such a pretty picture. His inconvenient epiphany rearing up like a hydra head. He frowned and chased the thought, striving for more.

He’d walked through the jungle, fern fronds brushing his face... there, it was coming back a little. He’d snuck around the back, where lighted globes had been making pretty spots of shifting light on the ground, and wind chimes had called from tree branches like strange crystal birds. He’d slipped into the guard ranks unnoticed and stood at the rear corner to wait for Jensen and Danneel, faint strings of music curling through the damp air. _Then what?_ he asked himself. He screwed up his face harder. He could barely remember the sound of grass rustling, and something on his shoulder, maybe a hand, maybe--and then his memories went fuzzy again, muted flashes of words floating in his ears and his body weighted with confusion, like lead in his blood.

"Awake, I see," came an electric voice.

Jared started violently, sucking in a breath over a burst of icy panic in his chest. The accompanying rush of adrenaline wiped the gunk from his brain for a second, and his eyes widened with understanding. Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar voice, bound to a chair, bloody mouth—that meant he'd been drugged and taken. He'd been _taken_ by someone, probably a--

"Bounty hunter, yes," sighed the voice, flat with boredom. "You've never done this before, have you?"

Jared tried to look over in the direction of the voice and managed to get his head to loll to the right. But there was nothing there, just more blank darkness--and then a panel door slid aside with a quiet _shff_ , and Jared cringed away as light stabbed at his eyes, rolling through his brain and amping the pain of his headache.

"I'll give you a moment." The voice sounded His so precise and hollow, almost like a historic computer sim. The metallic tint was gone--it must've been a commlink, before--but the eerie tonelessness was still there, ringing in the even syllables.

Jared forced his stinging eyes open, glaring. A man was standing there. He was short and pale, and looked like he’d been put together as an afterthought, his body as shapeless as a lump of dough. "Hello, Jared Padalecki," he said.

His hands were folded neatly over his paunch, and his eyes--the bright blue of enhanced-vis implants--observed Jared without emotion. A clean silver scar split his bottom lip, but other than that, he was bland, bland, bland: the kind of person your eyes passed over in a crowd, and who you never remembered later.

"Who are you?" Jared tried to say, but it came out muddy and thick, his tongue flopping in his mouth. He shook his head and tried again, but the man waved a little hand.

"Oh, don't try to talk. Cyclitrine cuts motor control to the lips and tongue, you know. It's pointless to try.”

Cyclitrine--Jared's stomach lurched, and fear skittered sharply down his spine. The swiftest knockout drug in the whole system, restricted to government use or sold on the black market for a hundred thousand galdrets a liter--he'd never, ever heard of it used in real life. He and Jensen wouldn’t have touched a load of the stuff for all the money in the system. The risks far outweighed the benefits, and nothing good came of its use. Mostly you heard about it being used to sedate violent criminals in super max stellar prison, people who “couldn’t be kept down any other way.”

"Yes, cyclitrine," said the man. His head bobbed in a very slow nod, once, twice. "I can see from your eyes you understand just how profitable this had to be for me in order to sacrifice some cyclitrine. Good. I don't need to waste my time explaining too much."

Jared's heart fluttered in his chest like a caught bird. What could this man possibly want from him? Jared’s bounty wasn’t even worth a liter of cyclitrine. It didn’t add up, his brain muttered, there had to be something--

"I'm not going to kill you, if you were wondering," the man said. "Don't worry a bit about that. Much as it would be nice to have the eighty thousand galdrets your head would get me, it's not what I'm after. You’re merely assisting me, which I thank you very much for.

His forehead furrowed sincerely, as if he really meant it, and something in Jared snapped. His gut boiled with rage so strong it blotted out the fear with its intensity. He growled at the man and jerked his chair forward, making it scrape on the floor. The man raised his eyebrows slightly, patronizingly, and Jared wanted to reach out and rip his jaw clean off, shove him to the ground and bang his skull into the steel floor--but his hands were bound, and he wasn't sure his muscles would have obeyed, anyway. He was helpless. He shoved the chair forward again in frustration.

"My, you're eager to cause trouble, aren't you," the man chided, mild as milk. "You'd be better off if you stopped. We shouldn't have to wait longer than a few minutes, anyway. I sent out a message a while ago, before the cyclitrine wore off. If I've timed everything right, we should be getting a reply quite shortly, and then this little ordeal can end for you." He looked down at his watch, an expensive crystal model, and tapped it once. As if on cue, the commlink beeped.

"Incoming, sir," someone said. "Communication from Ackles." Jared's eyes widened, and his thoughts screeched to a halt. The man smiled.

"Excellent. Put it through." The commlink beeped, and he looked at Jared. "Right on time."

"Wake," came the growl over the comm. Jensen's voice. He sounded guttural and thick over the link, but Jared would recognize him anywhere. He threw himself against his bonds and made a frantic noise, sure even with his fuzzy brain that Jensen being close enough to commlink had to mean bad things. Wait, Jensen had said _Wake_ , which meant--

Jared went slack with shock. Which meant this was Ved Leaves-a-Wake, one of the best bounty hunters in the entire solar system. He was known for being absolutely ruthless, almost inhuman, and catching uncatchable targets. Jared's eyes widened. If it wasn't Jared Wake was after...

 _No!_

"Ackles," said Wake pleasantly. "So good to hear from you. I've got something of yours, I believe."

"And I'm going to get it back," Jensen agreed. His words were dark with promise. Jared struggled harder. "Right now, you hear me? You turn him over and I won't blast you to hell and gone."

Wake chuckled. "All right, we can play that way if you like. You seem to have a mistaken idea of who has any power here. Let me remind you of something." It happened so fast that Jared didn't even realize he was moving: he slid something shiny from his wrist holster, then leaned over Jared and sliced neatly over the skin of his shoulder.

Pain seared through him instantly, burning down the path of the knife like a hot brand. Jared gasped for breath as it registered, and couldn't help but whimper as Wake dug the knifepoint in further. Then he was pulling the knife away, but the pain went on, stinging, aching. Jared sagged against the chair, head swimming, then grit his teeth over a whine as Wake patted the wound gently. His vision blurred as it gave a hot throb.

"Jared!" Jensen's voice punched through the air, tight and desperate, and Jared swallowed hard. He tried to speak, tried to say something like _I'll make it, man, seen worse--_ anything to brush it off--but his throat wouldn't work, suddenly. Wake had somehow got something that felt like a small box pressed firmly to Jared's neck. Jared tried to bite him, but Wake just pressed down harder until Jared was almost choking, and was forced to break off.

"I have him under a vocal suppressor," said Wake. "He could be screaming right now, Ackles, and you'd never know." _I'm not_ , Jared thought, straining forward, shoving his thoughts outward with some vague hope that they would zing through space to Jensen.

When Jensen's voice came back over the comm, it was acid. "What do you want, Wake?"

"I think you know what I want, Ackles. But why don't you come have a chat with me and we can discuss it."

"Come on your ship so you can have us both?" Jensen's voice cracked in a laugh. "Yeah right."

Wake's lips curled up gently. "Do you have a choice, Ackles?" he mused.

The silence on the comm was enough of an answer.

"I know you're nearby, Ackles," said Wake. "You can be at my ship in fifteen minutes, can't you? Let's meet in my cargo bay then. I'll be waiting. And if you're late, well... I can't guarantee your prize won't come to you a little bruised, shall we say. End transmission," he ordered, and the comm beeped off.

"Come," he said, patting Jared's arm again. Jared grit his teeth at the wave of fire. "Your rescue squad is almost here."

He snapped his fingers. Someone came in and blindfolded Jared, then hauled him up by his good arm on a dizzying march through winding hallways. Jared could feel his shirt slowly soaking with blood, the slice throbbing with each beat of his heart--knew it would look bad when he got there. The cut was on the left side, near his heart. He hoped Jensen didn't think the worst. He hoped Jensen knew what he was _doing_.

The sounds of his surroundings blurred around him with the blindfold, and it wasn't until he heard an airlock open that he realized they must be in Wake's cargo bay. Someone ripped the blindfold off him, and he gasped as Rosie swam into view. He wanted to cry out when he saw her doors open, but the vocal suppressor was still clamped against his skin. He settled on watching Jensen's every move as he emerged, drinking in the sight of him. Jensen was still wearing the pants and boot from the ball, but had stripped the jacket off to his t-shirt. Every line of his coiled body screamed anger, in a way Jared had never seen before, and his face was twisted and murderous. His hands were clenched so tight, knuckles pale. Jared's heart seized.

"Wake," Jensen said, stopping fifteen feet away. His voice was scraped rough, and his eyes were glittering.

"Ackles," said Wake. He prodded Jared's shoulder; Jared couldn't help but moan silently, and he saw Jensen flinch. "As promised, here he is. What are you prepared to offer me, for his return?"

Jensen bared his teeth in a snarl. "Don't play with me, Wake. I know you won't take money, you goddamn son of a bitch, and I know you don't want my ship. Let's just cut to the chase. You take me."

The words rang through the bay, loud and clear, and Jared found himself struggling wildly in the holds of the guards without thinking about it, every atom in him stretching to get loose and over to Jensen. He'd been in a hundred fights with Jensen at his back over the years--bar fights, ship fights, fights in alleys and deserts and anywhere under the sun. He'd seen Jensen angry, no, _furious_ : spitting rage, leading with his fists and bruises and bloody teeth like a storm chained into a human body. But he'd never heard this edge to Jensen's voice, this vicious tone grating through the air like a saw. "You take me instead," Jensen said, and Jared grit his teeth and pulled harder, because that wasn't a voice you said no to, not if you wanted to be breathing in the next two seconds.

His heart was a battering ram in his chest. The blood dribbling out of his shoulder was making everything hard to concentrate, but he couldn't, _couldn't_ take his eyes off Jensen's face, not even for a second. It looked like a stranger's: the eyes burning, the mouth just a dangerous slash. _Don't do this, Jensen,_ Jared pleaded in his head, trying to catch Jensen's eye. _Please!_

Beside him, Wake nodded. "A fair bargain. Your bounty _is_ considerably higher. But how do I know you'd keep that end of the deal, Ackles?" His dry, mechanical voice flickered through the air without emotion. "The stakes are higher now, yes, but you always got away before, didn't you?"

Jensen's jaw tightened. "You know I'll keep it," he said. He tilted his chin up and crossed his arms, his whole body stiff. "Don't fuckin' try to play with me, Wake. Either you take the bargain or I chase you to the ends of the universe--and I _will_ catch you--and show you what hell means. It's a good offer."

 _What do you think you're doing_ , Jared wanted to shout at him. _How is it a good bargain, trading yourself for me? This was what he wanted!_ But the vocal-suppressor pressed cold and hard into his throat, and he was left just mouthing it, desperation coursing through him. Jensen wouldn't meet his eyes--stared past him at Wake, instead.

 _ **Look**_ _at me, Jensen!_

"All right, Ackles," Wake said after a moment. "I'll take your deal--if we make the trade right now. You must have someone at your ship's controls. Tell them to come out and get him at the door. My men will take him to that far."

"She'll be armed," Jensen warned.

"Fine."

Jensen flicked the comm on his wrist. "Danneel, come to the ship door. Bring your gun. Be prepared. They're giving back Jared."

Everything was happening too fast. The guards dragged Jared forward, forcing him to stumble, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. There was an agonizing moment where he passed Jensen, and their eyes locked-- _Jensen_ , Jared mouthed, flaring with longing and fear. Jensen didn't say a word, but his green eyes followed Jared all the way to Rosie's door, full of something Jared didn't recognize. Jared was shoved into Rosie's side and through the door, where he felt Danneel grab his arms. He couldn't take his eyes off of Jensen. The last thing he was was Jensen's face, disappearing around the corner of Rosie's closing door.

Somehow Danneel dragged him from the docking bay to the cockpit, though his vision was blurry and his limbs felt heavy enough to break right through the hull. Things went by in flashes: Rosie's side, the viewscreen showing Wake's docking bay with his guards leaving it, the cockpit. Danneel's hands on the controls of the ship as she sent Rosie into warp. The sound of his heart rattling dryly in his chest as the stars flashed by.

"Jared, Jared, _breathe_." The sound pulled him out of it. He took in a few gulps of air, shaking his head to clear it. Danneel was sitting in front of him, her face worried and haggard. He became aware of one of her hands pressing painfully hard against his shoulder woumd.

"We gotta, we gotta--" fuck, he couldn't make the words. Everything felt too huge and wrong and broken-open, like someone had just reached down and ripped his damn ribs apart to dig out his heart. His hands were squeezing shut around nothing, mind replaying that last slice of Jensen's eyes before he disappeared around the corner--

Danneel's hand clamped down on his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Jared, I said breathe," she ordered. He sucked in another shaky breath; she fixed her burning, wild eyes on his.

"Did they give you anything?" she demanded. "Tell me."

"Cyclitrine," he tried to say.

“Fuck,” she bit out. She let go of his jaw. "That bastard. We're gonna go get him, okay?" she demanded. "We're gonna fucking figure out where they went and go get him. We just gotta sit down and calm down and _think_ , okay?"

He screwed his eyes shut. _He just got taken by the worst bounty hunter this side of the solar system,_ he wanted to scream at her. _Do you have any fucking idea what that means? That guy never screws up. Jensen's as good as--_

But he kept those words and the bile down, swallowing over the hot, acid feeling at the back of his throat. He was furious at himself for the wetness in his eyes.

"Sit still," Danneel ordered tersely, shaking him again. "I'm gonna get the medkit and we're gonna patch you up and make a plan, okay?"

He couldn't sit still. His brain kept forcing him back over that memory of Jensen's eyes, that urgent look burrowing down into him. "What the _fuck_ was he thinking, Danneel?" he yelled, unable to keep it back. He squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving. "Stupid fucking--why did you let him do that?" It came out slurry and wrong because of the cyclitrine.

"Shut up!" she yelled back, storming into the cockpit. Her face was wet. "Just shut up, Jared! You're hurt, you're in shock, and if you don't shut up and let me explain I'm going to go crazy and just punch you in your damn mouth to _make_ you shut up, so _do it_!"

She shot him a glare. "He didn't give me a choice. Now sit still." He sucked in shuddery gulps of air as she forced him into the copilot's chair and cleaned the wound, binding it tight while he tried not to make noise, and just concentrated on breathing.

"I think we're good," she said after a fuzzy length of time. "We'll check on it tomorrow. Here." She forced two tablets into his hand. "I cleaned it, but just in case, take these." He swallowed them, mouth still a little numb. His whole brain felt numb, actually, numb numb numb down to his bones.

He couldn't stop thinking about Jensen, all alone in that place with Wake. No one to stop Wake doing from whatever he wanted. Most bounties just called for dead or alive, and didn't specify the level of "alive" they wanted. Jensen could be a rotted-out shell by the time they got to him--Jared made a noise at the thought of that, curling over. The man he loved, ruined, hurt, fucked over, and Jared had done nothing to stop it. Had been useless.

It suddenly felt really important to tell someone about that. Danneel was about the worst person, in love with Jensen herself, but she was all he had.

"Danneel," he blurted out, "I'm in love with Jensen. I'm sorry, know I shouldn't be, can't help it, but--"

"Hey, hey, hey," she said, "calm down. It's okay. I know you are, Jared, and we're gonna get him, okay? And then you can tell him yourself."

"But--" his mouth felt stupid, his chest too tangled and tight to breathe through. "But you," he tried again, raising his head to meet her eyes, "you wanna _marry_ him. He's--yours. Aren't you mad?"

Danneel's mouth softened at the corners. She took his hand in hers, gentle, like you handled a damaged ship panel. "Jared, honey," she said, holding his gaze. "What I wanted was to _do_ something. I wanted off of Cronus, okay? Jensen, sure. I thought I'd give it a try. But I wasn't expecting it to work out. And it wasn't what I was after. This, _this_ \--" she waved her hands at Jared's cramped bed, his window, Rosie. " _This_ was what I wanted. I wanted to be out here flying, going places. A potential partner was just a bonus."

He could feel his mouth hanging open, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "So you don't--" he made himself say it-- "you don't love him? But you guys are so... " he shook his head. "You guys are fucking perfect for each other, Danneel."

He would call it a smile any other time, the look on her face, though her mouth was still creased with worry. She squeezed his hands tight in hers. "Hey, guess what, love doesn't make sense. I'm not going to lie and say he and I couldn't have fallen in love, yeah. Maybe in some other universe, or if either of us were monogamous. But he told me about a week in he was in love with you, didn't want to lead me on, so that was that."

"He... loves me?" Jared's throat went tight and he struggled to breathe. "But he never said anything, we--we could have--are you sure? God." The fear and longing inside him pulsed, his whole body aching with the strength of his feelings.

"Pretty damn," she said, squeezing his hand tight. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, but, well, I think circumstances call for it. And look, _I_ wasn't exactly motivated to leave Cronus by my one true love for Jensen, Jared. I had my own motives, even besides just getting the hell out of dodge. I'm... " she sighed. "There's no easy way to say this."

"What?"

Her mouth twisted. "I'm part of the rebellion."

Jared's eyes widened, his heart jumping with fear in his chest. "What?" he sputtered. "Danneel, _the rebellion_ \--you could get killed," he breathed, shying away from old, dark thoughts.

"No shit," she said, pressing her lips tightly together. "But I've known that for two years now. Look, save your soapbox speeches and I'll save you mine. This isn't the time to get into it; we need to make a plan and you need to rest. And part of that plan is going to involve people I know, so it's best I tell you now, isn't it?"

Jared shook his head, reeling. "The rebellion... god. Have you been doing rebel work on Rosie this whole time? Is that who those guys were, did, did they take Jensen because--" The thought made him seethe on black rage, bile rising in his throat. “I swear to you, if you--“

" _No_ , okay?" She put her head in her hands. "Fuck. I didn't do anything overt! Just keeping an eye out. Didn't want to draw you guys into it, so just reconnaissance. Look, nothing that's gonna get you in trouble, nothing that would bring bounty hunters after us! The point is, Jensen and I, we're not getting married. Now back to the important thing: I know how we're going to find Jensen."

"How?" Jared asked hollowly. His head was spinning, and he just wanted to curl up and die. The rage and motivation he needed was somewhere far away, buried under the crushing weight of the knowledge that Jensen was out there on someone else's ship, completely at their mercy. He swept a hand over his eyes, but that didn't stop the tears from welling up.

"We need to go see my old boyfriend, Aldis," Danneel said, biting her lip.

"Why?"

"He works for the rebellion. He's how I heard about it in the first place, and he can track just about anyone in the solar system." She quirked her lips. "That's how I know Jim Beaver. I know you wondered."

Jared let out a dull laugh. "How do they have a hope in hell of finding them?

"They have ways." She caught his eye and held it. "Look, Jared, we're doing everything we can, okay? I promise you, we'll get him back." Her voice was sharp as steel.

He swallowed over his dry throat and wiped his wet eyes again. "You fucking bet we will," he said quietly. "I'll go to the end of the universe before I let that--before I let that _monster_ have him." He felt the sureness of that in his bones, in his blood, beating like a second heart in his chest. He would do it. He _would_ , damn all the stories about Ved Leaves-a-Wake. He'd get Jensen back, and tell him he loved him, and--

"Did Jensen know?" he asked, struck by it.

"About the rebellion?" she shot back, fiddling with some switch. She looked exhausted, strands of hair sticking to her sweaty face and her cheeks flushed an angry red. "Not at first, no. Of course not. What, you think I just go up telling anybody at all?" She jerked her head back and forth. "I'm not stupid. And like I told you, I didn't wanna get you guys in trouble.”

"Then how'd he find out?"

She gave a dry laugh. "That first night, after you went to sleep. He told me if I wasn't going to be straight with him about everything, then he'd cuff me and drop me off at the nearest base, thank you very much, but that people on his ship didn't get to have secret agendas that might put the crew in danger. He was very civil about it, very matter-of-fact, but I knew he meant it. He got real quiet afterwards. Asked me some questions. Said--said he'd been thinking about the rebellion a lot lately. Then he told me it just better not get anyone in trouble. He wasn't going to kick me off but I wasn't allowed to do anything that might draw attention to us."

"He--fuck," Jared swore, curling over his knees. "Fuck. I can't even think about that right now. How are you so damn calm?" he croaked. "How can you even--" _breathe_ , he wanted to say. Hurt was like a black hole in his chest.

She glanced at him--must not have liked what she saw, because she stood and pulled him gently to his feet. "Come on. You need some rest."

She led him down the hallway through the kitchen, her small hands tight on his arms. "And this isn't the first time I've had stuff go pear-shaped. You never get used to it, but it sorta becomes muscle memory, breathe deep and stay calm and don't let yourself panic, etc. At least I'm able to keep my grip this time. Everybody panics at least once. But we'll talk about this later, Jared. You're hurt and you need to sleep."

"Can't expect you to pilot all night by yourself," he protested, but his shoulder ached, and he knew the minute he hits the sheets he'd probably be out. It wasn't his body that was the problem; it was his brain, wheeling from thought to thought and never settling.

"I'll wake you up. We just don't want that shoulder causing problems later, so you need to sleep so you can heal, and get that cyclitrine out of your body."

"No, I can't, I can't," he said, biting back the wave of words that wanted to come out. "I don't think I can." Jensen's eyes, around the corner--

"You will," she said, and pressed sleeping pills into his palm. "Take 'em, Jared. Last ones, I promise."  
 

He swallowed them. Without a word between them, they both turned away from Jared's room--Jared and Jensen's room--and toward Danneel's. She hustled him in through the doorway and set him on the bed, helping him take off his shoes and socks as the sleeping pills started to work. He curled on his side in her bed as she dimmed the lights.

"Why'd he do it, Danneel?" he whispered, then. "Jesus." Furious, devastated--he didn't know what he would yell at Jensen if he got a chance.

"'Cause you were on that ship," she said, after a long pause. Her voice sounded rough, choked, in the murky darkness of her room. "I'm sorry, he wouldn't think of doing anything else."

"No, no, wasn't your fault," he told her. He reached for her hand blindly in the darkness and squeezed. "Never your fault. No arguing with him when he gets something in his head like that. Danny, you're the best thing that happened to this ship since we brought it off the ground--"

Her laugh sounded teary and relieved, and he closed his eyes. "I don't know about that, but I'm prepared to earn my keep by rescuing the captain with you. So get some rest. We'll regroup in the morning." She patted his good shoulder and slipped out. Jared was out like a light in minutes. With the drugs, he didn't dream.

\---

He woke up with a knot in his chest the size of his fist. He could barely inhale around it, and everything else felt wrong, too: the pain in his shoulder, the soggy feeling in his head, the fact that he couldn't hear Jensen's soft sleep-breathing in the room.  He checked the clock--0215. The sleeping pills had worn off, and taken their blissful blankness with them. The events of last night squirmed in his head, and he winced.

He stumbled up out into the cockpit, where he found Danneel. “I fucked up,” was the first thing out of his mouth.

He could hear Danneel’s hands go still, the wrapper of her protein bar crinkling in the silence of the cockpit. “Jared, no,” she said. Her voice was firm--the kind of voice you’d use with a dumb animal, Jared thought, biting the inside of his lip to keep himself together, a misbehaving puppy. He felt fragile and dangerous--a body made of glass, liable to break apart if something even touched the strings holding him together right now. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

“I should’ve done something,” he said. It hurt to talk, the weight of his failure making his voice heavy and painful like a chain around his throat. “I should’ve fought back somehow--I should’ve gotten away, I should’ve kicked Wake in the face, I should’ve done _something_ , anything. I should’ve helped you yesterday instead of jus--“ he forced his voice on, whirling around to pace to a porthole--“shutting down--“

“Jared!” Danneel said sharply. “You were drugged and in shock. It happens, okay?” She tossed her protein wrapper at the floor and buried her face in her hands.

“It didn’t happen to you.”

She sighed. “Because I’ve been trained for it."

"What, with the _rebellion_?"

He regretted the words the minute they were out of his mouth. They'd come from a rough, furious place, and they didn't belong here--not when they had to focus. "Fuck--sorry." He collapsed into the chair next to her. "Danny, I'm sorry."

She looked him straight in the eye. "Why do you hate the rebellion, anyway?" she asked, voice hard.

Jared shook his head, dropping his head to rest between his knees. "It's not something I talk about much," he said.

“I got that,” she said. She let the silence sink into them both for a moment, then said, “But I think you need to tell me anyway. I get the feeling there’s something there that I should know.”

Jared bit out a humorless laugh. “Guess so, if we’re going right to the rebel den.”

She pursed her lips. “Which we are, because they’re the only people who can help us,” she said crisply.

“I know, I know,” Jared said. He covered his face with his hands. “Fuck, sorry. Believe me, I’m grateful for that, it’s just--“ he paused, fighting to find the right words for his clumsy tongue. “Something really bad happened to my family because of the rebellion.”

“What happened?” she prodded gently when he didn’t go on.

He let out a slow breath, and tried to figure out where the right place to start was. “I had this brother,” he said finally. “Jeff."

He was four years older than me and I worshipped him, you know? He was--good. There’s just no other word for it. He was always helping people without them asking and going out of his way to make other people’s days better. He loved making people laugh.” Jared huffed. “I remember when we were little, he’d always carry around those stupid joke packets, and the jokes were so bad, but they always made me laugh. He was the best brother I could’ve asked for.

“He was really smart, too. He wanted to be a doctor. After compulsory, he got into Central Base University.” Jared paused, picking at a smudge of dirt on his pants. “He went off so excited. I mean, we all were. Central Base meant good things. He wasn’t allowed to vidchat, but we’d get these letters, and they made it sound so amazing at first, like it was some gleaming silver paradise.” His mouth twisted. “But the letters got shorter and fewer as the weeks went by,” he went on, “and by the time he came home for the holidays six months later, you could tell things had changed. His eyes were just--I don’t know. Different. Empty, kind of, like he’d seen things he shouldn’t have… he didn’t look like my brother.

“He was too quiet, too. He never wanted to do any of the things we’d done before--he spent most of his time reading old records at the library. I tried to tag along, but he wouldn’t let me.

“So finally I got real mad at him and just let everything I’d been thinking out. Screamed at him that he wasn’t the same and asked what was so great about Central that it made him hate Santa Marina and everyone in it. He looked shocked, and then guilty, and then he told me I’d got it all wrong. It wasn’t Santa Marina he hated. It was Central.

“He told me that at school, nothing was the way it was supposed to be. There were secrets there--doctors doing things they shouldn’t, companies keeping supplies low to drive up the price on meds people needed. He told me he’d joined the rebellion. I thought he was brave. I thought he was being a hero, and it just made me love him more.

"He had this big plan. He was going to go to Cronus... "

"He's glad he didn't go to Cronus."

Jared blinked up at her. He'd never heard her voice so harsh. Her face was tight with fury, her lips clamped together in a fierce line, like she was afraid of letting any words loose.

“Well, what happened to him instead wasn’t so great either,” he growled, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe if he’d gone to Cronus he would’ve made it out alive.”

Her eyes widened, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Yeah,” Jared said, feeling vicious satisfaction twist through him for a second before it was replaced with jagged old hurt, still sharp as glass around the edges. He looked down and picked at the spot on his knee again. “It happened while I was out. We were still sharing a room--not like my family could’ve afforded any different.

“There was a bloody handprint on the wall,” he got out. “And blood on the floor. His bedpost. Seemed like everywhere.”

He could remember it too clearly, technicolor red slashed all over the sheets and carpet, panic squeezing his body and leaving his brain whirring high and terrified above it like a broken machine. The memory throbbed in his head, overwhelming him, and he could smell the blood again like he was right there--coppery and thick and _wrong_. He sucked his breath in through his teeth and made himself keep going. He could hear Danneel’s shallow breathing beside him.

“There was no body. Just blood. I went downstairs, screaming at my parents, and we called everybody we could think of--local police, county police, _planet_ police. Nothing. Nobody came to investigate, and nobody ever got back to us. We kept getting pushed around from department to department when we went into the station. Nothing. No one wanted to help us."

He knuckled angrily at his wet eyes, shoving down a traitorous noise fighting to get out of his throat.

“So I studied real hard.” He managed to snuffle out a bitter, gulping laugh. “I studied real hard like a good boy should. I thought, if the government’s gonna come in and, and _kill_ my brother for just talking, then I’m not gonna let them kill anyone else of mine. I’m just gonna keep my damn head down and study hard and make it out of here, get someplace where I don’t see him walking around the corner every time I walk to school, sitting in the theater, fishing with me at the stream--” he broke off, and curled over his knees as a wave of familiar fear and horror rose up over him. It was all he could do to just sit there, breathing, for a minute.

He felt Danneel’s hand slip over his shoulder, and he wanted to tell her to leave--to not touch him, because he’d break apart if she was kind to him. He knew he would. He’d shatter into a million pieces. But he didn’t say anything. He sat there with her arm loosely draped around him until he had it together again.

“And then I couldn’t pay for school, so I built ships,” he whispered. “I went home, and I built ships. Felt like a damn failure for not getting out, not going any of the places he couldn’t, not being valuable enough to his killers so they wouldn’t come for us too. And then Jensen came along, and--“ he blew out an explosive breath and waved his hand, trying to explain without words because he had none. “And he was fucking _Jensen_ , you know? And I just couldn’t stay there while he went off, I couldn’t. So I left, and I kept tabs on everybody, sent Chad letters every week asking for news--and it wasn’t even anyone back home in the end. It was Jensen.”

Danneel squeezed his shoulder tight. “Jared, I’m so sorry,” she said. Her voice was thick and wavery. “I’m so sorry.”

He jerked one shoulder up in a shrug, heart prickling at the words. They helped, yeah--but they didn’t change anything.

“It’s all right,” he said after a moment, taking pity on her. “I get on okay, you know? I just… “ he took a deep breath and let it go, a long exhalation that rang in the silence. “I just never wanted anything to do with the rebellion after that. It’s too dangerous.”

When he looked over at her, she had her lower lip pulled between her teeth. She looked like she ached to say something, but she didn't.

"Look," she told him softly. "I'm not going to say you should support it. But we need them right now, okay? Can you just hang tight for a while? And get back to sleep? I know your brain must feel like it's full of scorpions right now, because mine does, but you have to sleep, Jared. You need the rest to heal."

He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Of course. If it's for Jensen--anything." He felt the truth of that in every tiny part of him.

\---

In the morning they were halfway across the system. Jared woke up and felt dull and burned-out inside, like he'd swallowed a bomb. But over that, there was a calm, clean layer of rage, sitting like a film over his skin. He pulled that further over himself and used it to fuel his walk out of bed and down the hall into the cockpit.

"Morning, Danneel," he said, putting a hand on the back of the chair.

She turned to look up at him. She looked exhausted but alert, dark circles under her eyes. "Morning," she said. "We're waiting for a rendesvous. When I get a message, we're going planetside."

"You should sleep," he said.

"Caught a few hours. Can't sleep now. We gotta be on call. Rosie flew all night to get here, and I'm not gonna miss this. We only get one chance."

"Hypocrite," he told her softly.

"You needed it more than me, shoulder wound. How are you feeling today?"

He shook his head. "Furious and ready."

She gave him an exhausted smile. "Perfect."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the planet below them. Jared traced the continents with his eyes. He didn't know it. Any other time, that'd be an exciting thought--he and Jensen kept a planet tally of how many they'd been too--but now it just made his anger settle closer.

Their inbox dinged, and Danneel shot up to read the subject line. "VeriMatch?" Jared said, dubiously, as she opened it. "Do you really need to read that now? Probably spam."

"That's the signal." She scanned the message and punched in a series of coordinates. "That's our rendesvous point."

"In a _VeriMatch_ message?"

"VeriMatch is a front for the rebellion," she told him, turning in her chair. "It's a good cover. No one pays attention to it and you can send out millions of messages a day. No one thinks to look there."

Jared shook his head in disbelief. "The stupidest match company in the system is actually a rebellion group?"

"You better believe it, buddy. Ready to land?"

He strapped himself in, resolving to deal with this later. "Ready."

The descent was rough and the terrain of the planet was rougher. The coordinates were for a desert, and Jared winced at the sandy wind that smacked him in the face. Up ahead, there was a lurid pink and white ship that read _VeriMatch Love Boat_ in large bubbly letters on the side. _Where your dreams come true!_ Promised the perky message on the side. Jared fucking hoped so.

A guy was waiting for them at the end of the gangplank. He jogged down the gangplank to meet them. "Hey," the guy said when he caught up. He was handsome, with intense cheekbones and dark, serious eyes. His handshake was gentle but firm, a leader's handshake. "I'm Aldis. Nice to meet you--Jared, right?" They shook hands, and Aldis leaned over to give Danneel a hug. "Good to see you again, Danny--I'm just sorry it had to be for this reason."

Jared shrugged tightly.

"Why don't you both come on in?"

He led them up the gangplank and inside the heart-shaped door. The welcoming room was plush and pink--a perfect cover. Jared would never have guessed this was a rebel base, mainly because it looked like an outdated caricature of femininity had thrown up all over it. The chairs were the poofy kind with tutus at their bottoms, and the carpet had some kind of flower pattern embossed into it. There was even a fake chandelier with little glass hearts. To top it all off, posters that looked like they came straight out of history books on Old Earth lined the walls in gilt frames. Jared peered at the two closest to him. Two cutesy felines with their tails arranged in a heart--"I'd be lion if I said I didn't love you!"--fluttered their eyelashes at each other next to a smiling white couple in an ancient red automobile--"You drive me to distraction!" Jared grimaced.

Danneel snorted. "Geeze, it never looked this bad on vidscreen," she said to Aldis.

"We've been upgrading," he said, grinning. "The more froof, the less suspicion. The real deal's back here," he told them, vaulting over a gleaming white desk at the back. A lighted sign above it read _Information_ in blinking red cursive. Aldis pressed his hand to the round door behind the desk and muttered something at it. It slid open to show a dark hallway, lit only by a series of globes.

"Creepy," Danneel murmured, nudging Jared with her elbow and smiling at him. He smiled back weakly and nudged her, too, grateful beyond words to not be doing this alone. They followed Aldis down the narrow hallway and through a few more coded doors, until they found themselves in the kind of room Jared would have expected in a rebel base. A giant screen with a map of the entire system spread over one wall, a series of smaller screens at its displaying what was probably classified tactical info. A girl was sitting at one of them--the second they came in, her head snapped up. She looked like nothing so much as she looked like a bird--her bones so delicately carved, her hands flittering over the keyboard like feathered wings. She had purple marks on her face, and Jared's heart skipped a beat--a psynad.

Psynads were supposed to be myths, bedtime story threats to children--but before he could process her face marking, the girl stood up.

"Danneel?" the strange girl demanded, her eyes burning from across the room. Danneel's eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open a little.

"Gen?" she asked, voice wavering.

The girl's face transformed. She burst into a beaming smile, and her eyes smoothed out at the corners in soft joy. "It _is_ you!" she breathed, and leaped across the room to sweep Danneel into a tight hug. Danneel's hands hovered for a second, then she clamped her arms around the girl and pulled her close in, her eyes squeezed shut as if in pain. The girl tucked her face into Danneel's neck and whispered something, and Danneel laughed, burying her face in the girl's dark hair.

Jared looked down, face hot. He felt like he shouldn't be here--the moment in front of him was pure and private, and very much not his. It made something under his breast bone ache coldly with longing. He closed his eyes for a second until it passed and he could breathe again.

When he opened his eyes again, they'd stepped back from each other a bit. Gen's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and Danneel couldn't stop glancing over at her. "Sorry," she murmured. Her hand was still wound around Gen's shoulders, her fingers tangled in Gen's hair. "It's just--we haven't seen each other in a really long time." Her voice cracked, and she laughed, swiping her wet eyes. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes soft with joy.

"I didn't even know you guys knew each other," Aldis said, raising his eyebrows and looking at them gently.

"It was on Cronus," Gen said. That seemed to mean something to all of them, because Aldis's face shuttered, and he nodded once.

"Your lucky stars are shining bright today, then," he said. "I'm glad you found each other again, though Danny--looks like we've got some stuff to talk about."

Danneel nodded, taking a shaky breath. "Yeah. Sorry, I had no idea--" Her hand twitched and tightened in Gen's hair.

Aldis smiled. "Nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “But hey, we gotta get back to why you’re here. Things are gonna happen real fast, and we gotta be on top of everything.”

“Right, right,” Danneel said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “So can you find him?”

“Well,” Aldis said, “ _I_ can’t. But my best locater might be able to." He patted Genevieve's shoulder. "She's about the greatest searchers in the system, I think," Aldis told him. "She can find just about anyone."

Genevieve tapped away at the computer for a few minutes, peering at the screen. "Here's something," she said finally. "I think it's encrypted, but--" she pushed another button-- "here, I'm running it through your program, Aldis. Okay, here we go, getting something now. Here we are. The people who called in his bounty--sector Alpha Alpha, Aldis." Her eyes widened, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Oh. _Oh_. Aldis, he's Bluebird."

Aldis swore softly, and Jared felt his whole body tense up. "What's Bluebird?" he demanded.

Aldis sighed and turned to face Jared, his eyes heavy. "Bluebird's someone the government's been looking for these last few months. We thought it must be someone who knew government secrets--someone who worked with Jeff Morgan, maybe."

Jared's blood ran cold. "Jensen worked with Jeff Morgan. 'Bout four years back."

Aldis nodded, turning to read something on one of the screens. "Genevieve sussed out that Bluebird's killed a few people who the government didn't want killed. Just three or four, but that's enough. That sound right?"

Jared could remember every time Jensen had come back from a bounty hunt, because Jensen hated every one. It had been exactly four since they started working together.

"Yeah. Sounds right." His throat ached. "So it's the government?"

Aldis nodded. "Has to be, even if we didn't have this callout as proof. The bounty's too high for it to be anyone else, anyway, and it matches some communications we've been trying to unscramble. I'm sorry."

Jared bit his lip and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he'd shoved the panic down inside him, tight and closed. "How do we get him back from Wake, then? Can you find out where he's going?"

Genevieve brought up another window on the viewscreen and typed in some more commands. "It looks like the rendesvous point is Sector 5, at these coordinates." She tapped the screen. "If we take the shortest path from his last location--" a map appeared on the screen. "You can try to catch him along this route."

Danneel and Jared locked gazes. "Then I guess that's what we'll do," Danneel said.

"I wanna go," Genevieve interrupted calmly.

"You do?" said Danneel. Genevieve nodded.

"Okay," Aldis said. He turned to Danneel and Jared. "This'll make it easier to get onto his ship, if that's what you're planning. What _are_ you planning?"

 _Get him back_ , Jared thought desperately, but they would need specifics. He nodded to a nearby table. "You think we can hash out a plan?" he asked. With Aldis's nod, they relocated to the table.

The plan they hashed out, after many hours, was this. Rosie would fly to meet Wake's ship; it didn't make sense for the VeriMatch ship to get involved and ruin the rebels' cover. This wasn't really their problem, anyway, and Jared didn't feel fair dragging them into it more than they already had. Rosie, cloaked and dead to life support sensors as she could get, would float in space while Jared and Genevieve took one of the escape pods up to the ship, similarly disguised. Once they were close enough to the docking bay—which Genevieve said she could assure by directing people's attentions elsewhere--Genevieve would spacewalk out and hack the dock doors with a program the rebels had used before. Dock doors open, Jared would fly the pod in, dock her, and they'd go find Jensen. Jared knew he'd go crazy if he had to wait in Rosie the whole time, so Danneel had volunteered to do that. She would be waiting to help them make a clean getaway.

It was a good plan. After hasty goodbyes and promises to return soon, Jared, Genevieve, and Danneel headed back to Rosie and set their course.

Jared went to sleep that night thinking of Jensen, his shoulder aching. _I'm coming_ , he thought across the distances between stars. _We're coming to get you, Jensen. Just hold tight. It'll all be okay._

\---

The plan gave Jared a focus he hadn't had before. When he thought of Jensen in Wake's hands and his rage threatened to choke him, he channelled that into going over the details again. They were seven hours away from the big showdown, and that left plenty of time to go over potential problems and obsessively prepare. He started with modifying one of his and Jensen's space suits to fit Genevieve. He brought her back into the engine room where he had the necessary tools. She sat in a chair beside him while he measured the helmet and took out the glass panels to access the recog programming.

He couldn't keep his eyes away from the mark on her face, three curved purple lines. Psynads were campfire story monsters--genetically engineered humans with super abilities, created by any number of shadowy organizations or scientists depending on who was telling the story. They snatched children and drained people's minds dry, or were trained assassins, or were working for the government--never anything good. In all the stories, one fact held true: psynads were signed by their creators with purple marks on their faces.

"So," he blurted out. "Either that's a tattoo or you're a psynad."

He cringed at the way it sounded, words flopping into the air with all the grace of a cold, dead fish. He wanted to kick himself when he dared a glance over at Genevieve and saw that her mouth was turned down in an angry line, her eyebrows an unforgiving slash across her pretty face. "Uh, I didn't mean that the way it sounded--I just meant, I didn't think psynads were real," he hastened to add.

“Well, we are,” she said shortly.

“Right,” he said, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Sorry. Whoa. Let me start over. Hi, I’m Jared, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Genevieve,” she said, and sighed. She looked exhausted, “And it’s all right. I understand it’s a shock."

"No, it was rude," Jared said. "Sorry. Just--I'm assuming that none of the things in the stories people tell are true," he ventured. 

She laughed, a soft, bitter little laugh. "Not the ones people think are, anyway. Has Danneel ever told you what happened when she was growing up on Cronus?" she asked, tilting her head.

"No," Jared admitted. "Most of what she's said has been about New Texas."

Genevieve nodded. "I thought so," she said. Her mouth flattened into a brittle, humorless smirk. "It wasn't very pretty."

Jared swallowed. "What _did_ happen? You don’t have to tell me, but… "

She hummed, shaking her hair out over her shoulder so that her face was clear. “I’ll tell you on one condition. You have to let me look at your heart. I don’t know if you’re trustworthy, otherwise.”

“What does that mean? Look at my heart?”

“What it sounds like--taking measure of the kind of person you are. I’m told it hurts a little, though it’s over in an instant."

He hesitated, then gave her a nod. "Do it."

Genevieve pulled her legs up under her chin and looked at him with her luminous brown eyes. His skin prickled and his blood went cold, but he didn’t look away; he knew somehow she was measuring him. He stared back at her, trying not to hide anything. He felt like something was brushing its fingertips over the bottom of his soul, leaving prints over the tender walls of his heart, but he bore it. It only lasted a second, and then it was gone, leaving him blinking in its wake.

She rested her chin on her knee. “Do you know how psynads were created?” she asked bluntly. Jared shook his head.

“No,” she said. “No one does, really, and the government in Central likes it that way. They circulate half those rumors themselves, you know--he ones about us being escaped experiments gone wrong at the hands of mad scientists, especially. They like those, because they get to be the good guys, rounding up all the dangerous stains on society.” She bared her teeth and made a scoffing noise. “The truth is that we were an experiment gone exactly right. We were built to their specifications and we each do just what we’re supposed to.”

“What’s that?”

Genevieve shrugged. “It depends on the psynad. There are 26 ‘generations’ of us, though why they call it that, I don’t know; each generation of psynads is descended from a different lineage, and slightly improves upon the last set. They’re represented by Roman letters. There are 150 to a generation, each with a different power. For example, I’m a telepath. Don’t worry, I can turn it on and off,” she said, sighing. “People always wonder that at first--‘are you reading my mind?’ Like I would just parcel through someone’s thoughts uninvited.” Her lip curled. “I might test people for honesty or trustworthiness by glancing at their heart, but I would never invade someone’s privacy like that.

“Anyway. Since there are 26 generations of psynads, there are 26 telepathic psynads in the planetary system, and 26 of every other kind, too--telekinetics, people with inhuman strength, faceshifters, etc. Each with their own variations from the others.”

Jared shook his head, brain swimming in the onslaught of information. “Okay, 26 generations and 150 in each. So that makes… “ he blinked, reeling back in shock. “Almost four thousand. Almost _four thousand_? You said you were made for a purpose. What did you mean by that?”

“We were all designed to do specific jobs. Telepaths are supposed to manipulate people.” She laughed shortly. “Obviously. Telekinesis is for builders, strength for fighters, shifting for assassins. The list goes on and on.”

“But… “ Jared trailed off, dropping his forehead into his hand and shaking his head. “But why would Central be making psynads with such a calculated… ?”

“Because we’re supposed to rule the system for them,” Genevieve said.

His head shot up. “What?” he demanded, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”

“I meant what I said,” she said, shrugging. “Central wants the Sector governments dissolved completely and all power in their own hands. The way the Sector governments are now, a Sector can refuse Central planetary or chemical resources if it needs them for its own economic growth or for the good of its own citizens. Central wants those resources, pure and simple.

“They want to avoid war--why waste humans now when you might need the resources later? So they avoided that step all together, and designed someone who could control people, a whole group of us. That's why they like to perpetuate myths.

“Danneel stumbled on this all by accident. She was in housing near the building they were raising us,” Genevieve said. “It was at the far end of the city, just before one of the slums started. Halfville, it was called--half in the city, half not. People aren’t very clever at naming things, are they?” She let her eyes drift closed. “Anyway, when she was fourteen, she started hearing a voice in her head. She thought she was going crazy.”

Her voice was so matter-of-fact that it took Jared a second to really understand what she’d just said. He imagined Danneel at age fourteen, the weight of this all on her shoulders, and wiped a hand over his face. “God,” he muttered. “Was it you?” he guessed.

“Yes.” She bit her lip and looked down. “They kept us locked inside the building--not much for a developing telepath to do. I reached out to see if I could find anybody to talk to. Eventually she realized that I wasn't in her head, and we started talking. About anything and everything--what she'd done that day, a book she'd read, what the ground looked like outside my walls. We got very, very close. It was one of the best years of my life.

"I told her things I wasn't supposed to tell anyone--we were strictly forbidden to share our nature and our living conditions with outsiders, though none were allowed in." She huffed out a breath. "I never felt very motivated to follow those rules, the way they were treating us.  


"Danneel was horrified, and she convinced me that I could escape. I'd thought of it before, but never found it feasible; with outside help, though, it was doable. She pledged to help me, and we planned to go underground and hide." She smiled. "It was completely unrealistic, but worth it."

Jared exhaled. "What happened? Is that how you got out?"

She closed her eyes. "No. They found out. I was moved to another facility and held under maximum security until they felt assured of my loyalty. It was in Sector 5, about as far away from Cronus as you can get. My telepathy only works short-range unless it's amplified, so I lost Danneel. Forever, I thought, until today, when I felt her mind again--" Joy seeped into her face. "I never thought it was possible."

Jared stared, horrified. "They just--took you away?"

"They did worse things than that," she said quietly, and he knew better than to ask, but his heart filled with sorrow.

"I did get out eventually. The government keeps files on the rebels, and I stole copies before I escaped. I want them destroyed." Her eyes were steely when she looked at him. "No government should be doing that, and the mark on my face reminds me of that. Generation V," she said, pointing to it. "Number 133. Which left me with GENV-133. Close enough to Genevieve, I thought. It's prettier, anyway."

"It suits you," Jared said. His throat was rough, like he'd swallowed a clump of loose wire, and his eyes were burning.

He couldn't imagine growing up and not even having a _name_. In the stories people told, psynads were always cold, unfeeling things, less than human and more evolved at the same time. Jared had always pictured them as tall and pale with long fingers and mocking laughs, twisting people like paper dolls whatever way they wanted. Genevieve wasn't a thing like that. Genevieve was just a real person, and the thought that someone had caged her and tried to shovel her along an inhuman path made him feel like ripping something apart with his bare hands. It wasn't _fair_. None of this was fair, and he felt like he would crumple under the weight of that.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry I was an asshole," he said, as gently as he could. "I’m sorry. I’m going crazy worrying about Jensen, not thinking straight--but that’s no excuse. I hope you don't hold it against me." He offered her the best smile he could scrape together, and his heart flipped when she smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling.

“You’ve recovered admirably,” she told him, stretching her feet out and wiggling her toes. “I think I’ll move you up into a probationary period, after which I’ll decide whether or not you’re still an asshole.”

He was surprised into a chuckle at her perfect deadpan. "You won’t regret it, officer," he promised, pretending to salute.

Her smile turned sweet, her nose scrunching up cutely. “Okay, I can see why Danneel likes you,” she said.

“I thought it was because of my manly dimples,” he joked.

“’Manly dimples’?” Danneel said, sticking her head around the corner. “I’m guessing that means it’s safe for me to come in now? Nothing important ever has the words ‘manly dimples’ in it.” She put her hands on her hips and smiled down at them both, but her brow was furrowed a little with worry. Wordlessly, Genevieve patted the floor beside her. Danneel sunk down and slid under her arm without hesitation.

“Jared and I were just discussing why you liked him,” Genevieve told her, curling her head into the crook of Danneel’s shoulder. “We’re done talking about Cronus.”

“Good,” Danneel said. She cleared her throat and met Jared’s eyes. “I guess now you have some idea of why I joined the rebellion?” she asked softly, laying her head on top of Genevieve’s.

The tilt of her voice was so cautious, her eyes shining with wariness in the dim glow of the engines. Jared felt his heart ache for the two of them, sudden and sharp--fifteen-year-old Danneel on the edge of a slum, the girl she’d wanted to save ripped away from her in an instant, and Genevieve, who’d been told she was inhuman her whole life and been torn away from the only person who had treated her otherwise.

“I think I’ve been really stupid,” he admitted quietly. “The rebellion--“ he bit his lip. “Jeff wasn’t their fault. The rebellion’s just people trying _not_ to let that happen. And I shouldn’t have been so scared of that. Because if the alternative means going along with things like that… "

He heaved a sigh. "I don't want to make any decisions till Jensen gets back--" _if_ , his mind whispered traitorously, but he ignored it-- "but I'm thinking maybe my brother had the right idea. I don't want to live in a world like this, where everyone's scared of the people that're supposed to be helping us--where they're plotting to take over and strip us of our rights. I don't wanna just watch it get worse."

Saying that felt like sloughing off years of weight. When he looked up at their faces, Danneel's shining with pride and Genevieve's clear and approving--he knew it was the right thing. He hoped Jensen would feel the same, when-- _when, not if,_ he told his doubts--when they got him back.

\---

  
He slept for a couple hours on the way to refresh his energy, and woke up feeling the plan was totally wrong. He paced through the ship until he found Danneel, sitting hunched over a screen in the cockpit.

"Danneel, I think you should fly the pod," he said without preamble.

She frowned, tilting her head up so she could meet his eyes. "Uh, what brought that on? Are you sure about it?" she said carefully.

He looked down at the floor and blew out a breath. "Yeah. I am. Me on the pod--it doesn't mae sense. You can fly smallcraft much better than I can and get inside the station way more easily. I'm clunky, obvious--I don't think I have half the chance you do. And we--" his voice trembling, his fingers digging themselves into his thighs. "We need the best we can get out there. Jensen's in trouble, and the impportant thing is that we get him back,not that I make some dramatic rescue and get to see him first." He tried not to make his voice waver. "I know you can do it. I'm not sure I can with the same level of skill. So. Yeah."

Danneel surprised him by folding him up tight in a hug, her chin digging into his good shoulder. "Fuck, Jared. Of course I'll fly her for you. I just didn't want to--"

"Yeah, but this isn't about my pride," he said, closing his eyes and smoothing a hand down her back. "This is about getting Jensen back. And if the way I can help best is to sit here with Rosie, then I'm not gonna fuck everything up by trying to do stupid heroics."

She squeezed him tighter.  When she pulled back, her eyes were wet, but she was smiling. "If something goes wrong out there, I'll be fine if that's the way--"

"Don't you _dare_ even talk about that," he said, voice shaking. "Everyone's getting back on this goddamn ship, you hear me? You can't--no. You go get him and you come back."

"Okay, Jared." She put a hand over her heart, like you did to swear. "I will."

Genevieve ducked into the room. "Hey, guys--I think it's about time for me and Jared to get in the pod. I'm starting to get pingwaves from Wake's ship."

"Change of plans," Jared told her. "You and Danneel are going--she can fly better. That all right?"

"Fine," Genevieve said. She looked at Danneel. "Ready to suit up?"

"Ready."

Jared watched as they descended, then turned his eyes to the mainscreen. He watched as the pod crawled closer and closer. Genevieve's notice-me-not vibes seemed to be working if the commstream from Wake's ship was anything to go by. Jared was listening so he could warn them if anything went wrong. Suddenly, he caught a shipwide broadcast:  
 _ **  
Arrival at rendezvous point in four hours. Cargo will be transferred and pay received then. Those owed a share, please report to the bridge with your code**_.

Cargo.  
 _  
Cargo_ , Jared thought. Jensen--Jensen, who'd brought him Rosie and then invited him along; Jensen, the truest and best _person_ Jared knew. Reduced to a number of galdrets and a powerplay by a cruel assassin.

For the first time in his entire life, Jared really wanted to kill someone. Wake was on that ship, and he'd still be alive after this, chasing them. He might even get another chance at Jensen. Might even kill him, next time.

He didn't think about it much after that. His hands were moving to his console and flicking open Harley and Sadie's programs before he had a plan, and by the time his brain caught up with him, the next move was obvious. He grit his teeth and jabbed in a series of commands, mind ten miles ahead of his fingers.

On the radar, he watched Sadie's pull off the edge of the ship, sliding sleekly through space. He punched her safety off, viciously. He'd put a cloaking device on her after the success of Rosie's, and he hoped Ved Wake would be too distracted with trying to shoot at Danneel to look beyond superficials. Heart in his throat, he watched her thread her way around gunfire and send out her echo pulses. After a long, tense moment where he thought his blood might just rush out of his veins at the speed his pulse was drumming in his wrists, he saw a message fly out toward Harley. He swallowed.  
 _  
Moment of truth_.

Harley peeled off Rosie's side and made straight for the gun turrets. Jared knew he wasn't strong enough to breach the real hull enough to damage yet, but that wasn't what he had in mind after all, not this time--because of course, the answer was clear in front of him, and he didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. Hull breaching was too obvious for some things; sometimes you needed to slip inside something and take it from the inside. He punched in another set of commands to Sadie, and watched, wincing as she uncloaked herself and started making a lot of electronic noise. Immediately, one of the gun turrets swept towards her; Jared saw Harley dart inside it.

It was a fucking gamble. Jared knew that most big ships like Wake's had a shaft going from the turretsides to the engine room so the engineers could reach them and address problems from up close, but there was no telling whether Wake had left such an obvious oversight. There was no telling whether he'd thought of this already. But there wasn't any hope but to try it.

He switched screenview to Harley's opticals, keeping Danneel's flight through space in his other viewer. Dammit, he would have to try putting a hyperdrive into the pods if they were gonna use them for this kind of flying, he thought absently, adrenaline flashing huge through his body and whiting out all the worry again. His mind was so weirdly clear as he took control of Harley manually. Now that he thought they might get Jensen back after all--that there was the slimmest sliver of a chance he might--he might--

He screwed his concentration tighter and focused on nothing but watching Harley crawl up the gun shaft. The visuals were crap--would have to work on that--and every time he saw a shadow, his hands went tighter around the controls, hoping it wasn't a defense mechanism. He refused to feel triumphant or miraculous when Harley's sensors caught a flash of light on metal. Triumph would be later, if they made it out of this alive. The metal turned out to be a door, which was just what Jared was hoping for. An airlock. If he was right, this would lead him to the engine room. Now to see if Harley could really bust this thing open. He set the command chain going and watched, lip pulled between his teeth, as Harley's wleder torch extended.  
 _  
Jared,_ came a noise in his brain; he started and winced at the almost searing sensation of it. _Jared, it's Genevieve. Our comm system's shot, but Danneel thinks she can make it back to the ship. It won't be a precise landing, though, so we had to warn you. You ready to fly out of here fast till we can get up to the cockpit?  
_  
 _Yeah_ , Jared tried to think at her, chest tight. _Do you--?_  
 _  
We have Jensen. Can you open the bay? ETA 2 minutes.  
_  
Relief flooded him, made his body feel wide and huge and filled with power and possibility. Fuck, maybe they would--but there wasn't time, there wasn't time to think, just to do. He opened the docking bay downstairs with easy flicks of his fingers, keeping his eyes on Harley and watching for any flashing that would indicate someone had noticed him. With a blinding burst of comprehension, he knew he would have to do something phenomenally stupid to get Wake's attention away from Harley when Harley was melting the inner door. So he did. He kept his eyes on Harley and Danneel, and he shot at Wake's ship.  
 _  
Jared, what are you doing?_ Genevieve demanded as the turrets swung around to face him. Just hurry up, he told her, putting Harley on autopilot and hoping to all the gods he knew that luck was on his side. Rosie was cloaked, but sooner rather than later Wake's sensors would pick them up some other way. He just prayed Danneel and Genevieve got there before that happened, because he didn't trust himself to be able to evade fire for long.  
 _  
Jared, you idiot! They're turning to face you!  
_ _  
Get inside!_ he told her.

The ship juddered with the sudden weight of the pod, and Jared sagged with relief. Tell Danneel to get up here ASAP, he yelled as best he could, poised to unlock Harley's autopilot the moment Danneel hit the copilot's chair. He slammed down on the airlock downstairs and moved the ship down at an angle to confuse Wake's sensors, hoping they were all strapped in down there. He saw the pod door open the second the airlock was down, but flicked that viewscreen off immediately--he couldn't, he _couldn't_ be distracted now. He bit his lip and focused with all his being, body tense, as he waited.  
 _  
She's coming,_ Genevieve told him, just as Jared heard steps running toward him. His eyes went wide as a blast from Ved's ship passed soundlessly over them, just hundreds of kilometers away. "Jared, you asshole, what the _fuck_?" Danneel demanded, but he waved her furiously to the other side, yelling, "Fly us out of here!"

She had her hands wrapped around the controls in seconds, and Jared flipped Harley's autopilot off immediately. Another blast came, closer if the viewscreen was anything to go by, but Jared turned his mind off of anything but controlling Harley. He was almost through the door, but Jared sped it up, adding more heat. _Please don't notice, please don't notice,_ he thought, over and over again. Finally a bit of the inner door melted away; Jared slapped Harley's thrusters on before the vacuum created had time to draw anything too huge to the hole he'd barely made.

He could tell the white hot metal of the door was already burning through Harley's surface because his audio was shot and his optics were going fast, but that was okay--he only needed to make it for another minute. Peering at the blurry picture Harley's transmitters sent while Danneel careened the ship around to avoid another blast and started firing up the hyperdrive, Jared picked out what he thought was the blur of the engine. With a final typed command, he sent Harley straight at it and pressed his self-destruct button. The screen went black.

Jared whirled around to look at Danneel's viewscreen, still showing Wake's ship. For a moment, nothing happened, and his fingers dug into the arms of his chair as his pulse beat wild with adrenaline and fear--then lights flickered on one part of a ship, then another. With a dawning sense of relief, Jared watched as the ship stumbled in space, flickering, flickering. The gunfire stopped; Jared imagined the warning klaxon going inside the ship. Then, before their eyes, it exploded in, pieces flying past them.

"What did you _do_!" Danneel yelled, jamming down the warpdrive and ducking debris. In a second, they were far enough away from the blast, but a tiny part of Jared whited out with fear at how close it had been. Danneel turned to him, her eyes wild with confusion and her hair mussed. "Jared, what the fuck was that? Did you make Ved Wake's ship explode?"

"I--I think so," he said, not wanting to jinx it somehow. "I mean, I set off a bomb in there, so, uh. I hope so."

"How'd you--"

"Those bots I've been working on. Oh, god." He slumped over as the adrenaline left him, followed by a flood of exhaustion. "Fuck. Thank god you made it, thank god." A thought seized him and he whipped his head up. "Is he--?"

"He's downstairs," she said, face softening. "He was--he was drugged, unconscious when we found him. Gen's checking him over and making sure they didn't put him in a medical coma; if they did, it might be a while before they wake him up. I think he struggled--they did something to his leg." She put her hands on Jared's own, which he realized he'd clenched till the nails were biting into the palms. "Jared, we think he's okay. Gen said his brainfunction was normal."

Jared took a deep breath. "Can I see him?" he said.

Danneel closed her eyes for a moment. "If you're quiet, Gen says," she told him, opening her eyes again. "You can help her bring him up into bed. But Jared, he looks way worse than he is, okay? Just--be strong. We got him back. We can figure everything else out from here."

Jared was down the stairs in a flash, but he stopped short in the doorway, heart stuttering in his chest. Genevieve was huddled over a body that looked nothing like Jensen for a second, its face haggard and bruised and skin stretched and pale. Jared swallowed a few times, then walked forward, slowly picking Jensen out in the figure's features. He tried to take deep breaths and keep himself from panicking, remembering what Danneel had said. _He looks worse than he is,_ he reminded himself, _he'll be okay, he'll be okay_...

"Jared, can you help me carry him up?" Genevieve asked. He nodded and sprang guiltily forward and pulled Jensen into his arms, being careful of his head like Genevieve instructed. He felt somehow lighter than he should, and Jared bit his lip.  
 _  
Please, Jensen, please be okay,_ he prayed, and walked him gently up the stairs. His heart was lying in his arms, and he didn't know what he'd do if this was it, if this was _really_ it.

He shoved the thought out of his mind and helped Genevieve put Jensen to bed, keeping his eyes off Jensen's wan face.

\---

  
The next few days were tense. Genevieve spent most of them at Jensen's bed, monitoring him. She, Danneel, and Jared slept in shifts. Jared slept in the kitchen until Danneel told him to sleep in her bed, and then they curled up together when their schedules intersected. Fear was easier to handle together, after all.

On the fourth day, when Jared was flying Rosie--out to the goddamn middle of nowhere, where no one would bother them until they were ready--Danneel ran in and grabbed his good shoulder. "He's awake!" she whispered, eyes alight with joy. "Jared, he's awake! And he wants to see you!"

Jared didn't have to be told twice. He ran out of the cockpit, past a smiling Genevieve, and stopped, slightly out of breath, at his and Jensen's door. The sight that met his eyes stopped him short and set him grinning fiercely. Jensen was sitting up, smiling right back at him--looking _whole_ and healthier and fuck, Jared couldn't hold back from leaning down and hugging him gently close, his head bumping into the top bunk.

"Fuck, Jensen," he whispered. "You stupid asshole."

"Right back at you," said Jensen, hugging him back. "Shit, is your shoulder okay?"

"Is your entire you okay?" Jared shot back, leaning back reluctantly to sit next to him. "God, Jensen, when I saw you come through, I thought you might be--"

Jensen shook his head, eyes not leaving Jared. "I think they had me out for the whole week," he said. "I fought at first--hurt my leg--then felt something again my neck. Think it musta been cyclitrine or something powerful. First thing I remember after that it Danneel's face as she dragged me out of there," he said. He laughed, shaking his head fondly. "God, she looked intense, like a warrior out of a storybook. I thought--I don't know what I thought, man, everything was crazy. Then I blacked out again, and then the next thing I remember she and Gen were in here, checking my vitals." He smiled at Jared. "And now you. Fuck, I missed you."

Jared smiled back, trying to reign it in. God, it was so much better to hear Jensen talking. It made him swell with love for Jensen, and--well, maybe this wasn't the best time, but maybe it _was_. Jared didn't ever want to have to wonder if Jensen had died not knowing they loved each other again. He cleared his throat and forced it out before he could overthink it.

"So no kiss for your rescuing princess?" he asked, voice as calm as he could make it. "Woulda been a good time to make your move."

"Maybe if I hadn't already been in love with you," Jensen said quietly, eyes on his hands.

Jared swallowed, feeling something fragile bloom in his chest. "Yeah?" he repeated, perching on the corner of the bed.

Even from here, he could feel the heat of Jensen's body--this new awareness of him, of how fucking precious he was to Jared. His beating heart and healthy blood; his whole, unbroken bones, and his bright green eyes. It was miraculous, and it still made Jared catch his breath a little. He wanted to reach out and hold Jensen close enough that they could sync their breathing, skin up against skin, and not let him go ever. His whole body ached to just make sure Jensen was really _here_ , really okay.

Jensen shook his head, mouth twisted. "Fuck, Jared, you're so oblivious. For a long time, yeah." His hands were tense where they rested in his lap, his thumb bumping up against the bandages on his wrist.

"Are you sure about Danneel?" Jared asked, hunching his shoulders to keep from reaching out to touch. He wanted to be damn sure about this before he made a move; his heart was beating in his throat. "I mean, she told me, but I wasn't sure... "

Jensen huffed out a breath of laughter. "C'mon, Jared. We never expected that to happen, not for real." He shrugged, picking at the skin on his thumb. "We never made any promises, and when we met--man. Just didn't click that way. Probably because we weren't looking to click. And before--well, she was something far away, and you were right here next to me, and I couldn't help it."

Jared bit his lip over a smile. "Yeah?" he asked. "Well--well you coulda said something earlier. When I figured out how I felt about you, I thought I was gonna have to watch you and Danneel get married."

Jensen's head came up, his face tight and his eyes strange. "How you--?"

"Feeling's mutual," Jared said, catching Jensen's eyes and letting all his feelings show through. "In case that wasn't obvious. I love you."

Jensen didn't say anything; just took Jared's face in his hands and kissed him, slow and warm and with something a little desperate underneath it. Jared kissed him back, feeling the same way--a confirmation of _we're here, we're here, we're here. We're together._ Jensen felt so real this close. He smelled like sweat and his skin felt tight with exhaustion, and Jared's shoulder still gave twinges every now and then. But they were here. They were going to be okay.

"You really?" Jensen said, when he pulled away. His eyes looked luminous this close.

"Yeah," Jared said. "God, forever, I think. But I only figured it out because I was jealous of Danneel."

Jensen laughed. "You didn't need to be."

He kissed Jared again, and from there it progressed to better things, both of them doing their best to keep as quiet as possible. It was clumsy--both of them hurt, laughing when they made mistakes--but Jared knew that this was where he wanted to be for the rest of his life, figuring this out with Jensen, as they lay together afterwards.

They curled together as best they could on the drier side of the bed, arguing good-naturedly about whose fault it was. Jared's heart felt overfull with the giddiness and joy of it--of being right here--and he thought he could probably drift right to sleep. But there was the question he had to ask first. He brushed his lips over the nape of Jensen's neck.

"So, you wanna join the rebellion?" he murmured. "Danneel said maybe... "

Jensen tensed and turned in his arms till they were looking eye to eye, Jensen's a bare and steely grey in the muted light. "Yeah," he said. "I do. I just--things are too fucked up, Jared. I'm not sure I can live with just doing the bare minimum anymore. We have a ship, we have ways to get around the government--that's so much more than anyone else has. We could be doing a lot more than smuggling holocard readers and bacon."

He broke off, shaking his head a little. "You never asked about the most dangerous stuff Jeff did. I knew it was 'cause you didn't wanna bring up bad memories, and thank you for that, but--well--" Jensen's eyes went distant. "I told you the truth about him not being part of the rebellion, and me not having anything to do with it back then. I never did, and Jeff never was a rebel, always worked alone. But he did some stuff that maybe would've qualified as recklessly dangerous and against the government. Like smuggling political refugees."

In spite of himself, Jared sucked in a breath. He'd been trained from birth to think that was the most dangerous thing to do, and the thought of Jensen in danger again was just not one he was prepared to deal with. Jensen reached down to take his hand. "I know it's dangerous, but Jeff trusted them, and I trusted Jeff. I only found out about one time for sure, but he believed he was doing the right thing, and I never would've turned someone in for something like that. He had good judgement, and it got me wondering... 

"I never told you this, but the people I took bounties on--they were all on this list Jeff had, of people he wanted to kill someday." Jensen offered a crooked smile. "Like I said, I trusted him. I figured, if we needed the money that bad--if I was gonna have to kill for it again--then it better be someone Jeff didn't trust. So I think I've sort of accidentally been part of the rebellion for a while, without even meaning to."

"Bluebird," Jared murmured with sudden comprehension.

"Huh?"

"The government--they thought you were an assassin for the rebellion. Which--I guess you were, without really realizing. That's why they took you." Jared squeezed his hand tight. "They called you Bluebird."

Something in Jensen’s eyes clicked. “ _That’s_ what those messages were about! The ones I took to Sam? That word kept popping up!" He whistled low. "God."

"The rebels figured it out. They're really smart. And good people. You'd like 'em," Jared said. He went quiet for a long moment, just thinking. After a while, Jensen reached over to cup his cheek and kiss him.

"Something wrong?" he murmured.

Jared shook his head until he figured out the right way to word it. Some old hurt throbbed under his ris, petulant and insistent. "I don't know why you'd think I wouldn't," he said, finally, softly. "Listen to you, I mean. About the rebellion. Jesus, Jensen. You could have told me. You could have--you could have talked to me." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I mean, you and Danneel--you're right. I was being stupid before. I was thinking this wasn't my fight, but it clearly is. I was being selfish. I was... afraid something would happen. To you, or to our families, like Jeff. I dunno. But I would have listened, you know. If you'd said. I would have thought about it and listened. You could have told me you were thinking about it."

"Jared... " Jensen brushed a kiss over his mouth. "Jared, fuck. Of course I trust you. More'n anyone. _Anyone._ And you would have listened. I know that, man. But did you ever think maybe I just didn't want you to have to make that decision when I wasn't even sure myself?" He hugged Jared close. "Ever think maybe I was being just as stupid and selfish, trying to keep you safe and close?"

"Oh," Jared said, feeling a rush of affection. He tucked his chin into the crook of Jensen's shoulder and meditated over that for a few minutes. "Well, that was dumb of you. Went and got myself kidnapped and drawn into it anyway."

He meant to make Jensen laugh, but Jensen just pulled him closer, his chin resting on Jared's hair. "Don't you ever do that again," he said quietly. Jared could feel his heart beat faster. "Fuck, Jared. I was so scared."

"Ditto for you, asshole," Jared told him. He cleared his throat. "I want to join too. I think it's time."

Jensen shifted till they were lying side by side again, his brow furrowed. "You do?" he asked. "Really?"

He knocked his shoulder lightly against Jensen's. "Where you go, I go. We're in this together, yeah? You'n me, walking between stars."

Jensen's face broke out in a smile. "You sap," he said, but his voice was soft and full of love, and the kiss he gave Jared after said everything he hadn't in words. "Are you sure?"

"We can talk about it with Danneel, but--yeah. I think so."

"Well, good. 'Cause I wasn't gonna leave you behind, one way or another. Not after this long."

"Now who's the sap," Jared teased. "No, yeah. Besides, I already got one of the government's best bounty hunters, so I guess I'm default rebellion now. They're not going to see it any other way."

"Yeah, Genevieve said you killed him somehow?" Jensen raised his eyebrows and squeezed Jared's hand. "How the fuck you do that, Jared?"

"Harley and Sadie. Wake _did_ get sloppy," Jared told him. He explained the battle, voice shaking at the parts his body remembered. "I thought we weren't gonna make it," he admitted.

"Well, you did," Jensen said. "I can't believe--god. You're a fucking genius. Thank you." He laid his hand over Jared's heart, and Jared covered it with his own.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Even though I killed Harley and Sadie, yeah, I kinda got to blow up an evil guy's lair, so, worth it. Definitely worth it. Besides, he'd kidnapped my princess. What was I s'posed to do?" If his voice wobbled a little, no one could blame him.

Jensen stayed quiet for a long moment. Then his fingers came up to brush over Jared's hair, feather-light. "My hero," he teased, and kissed Jared till his toes curled and his heart felt fit to burst from love in his chest.

\---

They went back to sleep for a few hours. Jared dreamed he was flying Rosie again, the whole of space spread out underneath his hands. Danneel and Jensen were back in the kitchen, laughing about something. Up ahead of them, Jared saw a star explode: an octopus of light and heat in technicolor, its arms reaching out to cradle the ship. All around them, purple and gold made swirls and waves, and Jared felt he was right where he was supposed to be.

When he woke up, Jensen was sleeping beside him. Faint starlight outlined the contours of his face, a half-moon of cheekbone and the jut of his jaw. Jared fell in love with him all over again. He watched Jensen's chest rise and fall; traced the line of his mouth and the curve of his neck with his eyes, and thought of touching Jensen, waking him up. But there was a little secret want tucked behind Jared's heart--to keep Jensen, this part of Jensen, as much his as he could for as long as he could. He didn't want anyone to know that Jensen could look like this. That Jensen was as wonderful as he was. He didn't want anyone to know, just wanted this to the two of them alone for as long as they could have it.

So he let Jensen sleep, instead. He watched him for a minute, until he decided that was kind of creepy, then eased his way slowly out of bed and stretched. He pulled on a shirt and some sweatpants from underneath his bunk, and slipped on a pair of socks. He took one last look at Jensen--god, he looked like some fancy painting, lying there in the dark, beautiful in silver and shadows. He shut the door as quietly as he could.

Danneel was sitting in the cockpit, reading something on her commpad when Jared wandered in.

"Hey big guy," she called. "So did you two lovebirds consummate your sparkly gay love?"

"Fuck you," he said, grinning and leaning down to kiss her hair. "Where's your girl?"

She blushed and wiggled out from between his hands. "Don't call her that. I don't even--nothing's happened yet, okay?"

"But it's gon-na," Jared sing-songed, still smiling. "I can tell. Rosie's basically just a loveship. C'mon, if you get to be smug, I get to, too."

"In what universe is that logical at all, dbag?"

"Geeze, you two, do I need to separate you?" came Jensen's voice from the doorway. Jared shivered a little at the husky sound of it, arousal sparking in his belly.

"No," he said, turning and grinning. "'Course not, captain. We can be civilized."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Jensen said, green eyes fond. He limped out toward them. Danneel and Jared both made to rise and help him, but he waved them off. "Hey, I'm an invalid, not helpless. Besides, you two were right where I wanted you. We need to talk."

Danneel tensed beside Jared. "Talk about what?" she asked, swinging around in her chair to face him fully. Jared shifted until he was facing Jensen, too. Jensen eased himself into the co-pilot's chair carefully.

"I mean, you can go with Aldis if you want," Jensen said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "But--" he glanced at Jared. "We'd miss you."

"We would," Jared said. "Man, Danneel, we'd just go back to being a pair of losers without you. You know it's true!" he went on when she covered a little laugh. "You can fly better than me, you know more useful people than _Jensen_ does in all his illustrious smuggling history, and you know how to be a rebel better than either of us. And given that we're about to start being rebels ourselves--"

"What?" she said, eyes going wide. "When'd that happen?"

"After we consummated our 'sparkly gay love'."

" _Jared_ \--"

"Her words, not mine!" He bit his lip and glanced at the floor, letting his voice go serious for a moment. "But it's like I told you before. It doesn't really matter if it feels dangerous. Hell, our whole damn existence is dangerous for profit--why not for profit _and_ helping people? We have the means to do something important, and it's not something I'm okay with, anymore, pretending it's not that bad."  He took a deep breath. "What happened to Jeff--he would've wanted me to go on, anyway. This is a better way to honor him."

Jensen was looking at him, his eyes full of something proud and bright, and Jared ducked his head and coughed. "Plus, I still haven't beaten you at Deltan poker," he added to diffuse the tension.

"And you never will," she said, catching his eyes a little hesitantly. "Well. Wow. Yeah, I'd like to stay, if you're really okay with that. I'd feel kinda weird leaving you morons now, anyway, letting you fend for yourselves. Because we both know how well that'd go." She beamed up at them.

"Then I guess our pirate crew's grown to three and added another occupation to our list of many," Jensen said, settling back with a satisfied look on his face. "Awesome. That's settled. Just for officialness's sake: you're welcome to fly with Rosie for as long as you like, Danneel Harris. Pay's not great, but... it's home."

"What he said," Jared told her, beaming. "And Gen, too--if it's all right with Jensen."

"I think she gets a free pass since she helped save my life," Jensen agreed dryly.

Danneel bit her lip. "Thank you," she said, softly. A smile grew on her face. "She's not awake, but we can ask her when she wakes up."

"Excellent. So. Now that we've risked our lives for each other, bonded, become fast friends, and killed the bad guy, what's next?" Jared said, grinning.

He knew it was deeper, darker, more important than that--they'd challenged things beyond belief today, and trouble was sure to follow fast on their heels. They might not live too much longer, not if the government was going to start actively chasing them instead of passively waiting. The thought sent a chill through Jared's body. But if that was the case, then fuck--he wanted to live it all the way. He wanted them to have this moment, this triumph, this place; he wanted them to have something good to hold onto. And if there was anything good in the middle of this mess, it was this. Them all together, safe, and happy. That was cause for celebration.

"Well, let's see. First, I'm gonna fry up the rest of that bacon, 'cause we deserve a feast." Jensen smiled at Jared's cheer. "Then, I'm guessing we might wanna go meet up with Aldis, yeah?" Jensen asked, turing to Danneel. "He'll know where it's best for us to be next. And anyway, we need someplace to give Rosie some TLC and rest up ourselves. Sound reasonable to you, Danneel?"

"Sounds perfect," Danneel said. "It'll be tough from here on out, you know. Being real rebels, killing Wake--the government's gonna be hot on our trail." Her face creased with worry.

"Yeah," Jared said. He smiled, and caught Jensen's gaze. "But we can handle it."

The stars around them almost seemed to shine brighter in agreement.

END


End file.
